Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905 · [New York : Scribner & Co.] · leaf 402
ine fallsin the wind, and lay heavily upon the snow.His face was black ; and a bright red streamtrickled from each nostril as the Professor sankon his knees beside him, crying huskily : My — poor boy ! — I have — killed — you ! The Professors face had a strange look, too. t All right. Come. iS95.1… … the railroad above the clouds. (see next page.) so unlike the Professor of yesterday; he seemedso dull, even stupid ! Come, Excellency! Ramon was shoutingin his ear. It is the Soroche, the mountain-sickness, and none can fight it. We must be gonefrom here, else very soon you are both dead.Come! The…
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