The Rules of the GameRead Books Ltd, 18. 2. 2015 - Počet stran: 878 This vintage book contains Stewart Edward White’s 1910 novel, “The Rules of the Game”. A gripping drama that revolves around the corruption in the early Forest Service of Southern California, “The Rules of the Game” will appeal to those with an interest in the historical development of Californian environmental systems. It is not to be missed by fans of White’s work. Stewart Edward White (1873–1946) was an American novelist and spiritualist. Other notable works by this author include: “The Long Rifle” (1930), “Folded Hills” (1932), and “Ranchero” (1933). Many vintage texts such as this are becoming increasingly rare and expensive, and it is with this in mind that we are republishing this volume now, in an affordable, modern, high-quality edition. It comes complete with a specially commissioned new biography of the author. |
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Strana
... They're a mixed lot. Then there's old Meadows. He's assertin' his heavenborn rights some more. It's all right. We're on their backs. Other branches just about down.” There followed a rapid exchange of which Bob could make little—talk of ...
... They're a mixed lot. Then there's old Meadows. He's assertin' his heavenborn rights some more. It's all right. We're on their backs. Other branches just about down.” There followed a rapid exchange of which Bob could make little—talk of ...
Strana
... They're hustling it in,” said the latter. “That's right. Can't give me yard room any too soon. The drive'll be down next month. Plenty doing then. Damn those Dutchmen!” He spoke abstractedly, as though voicing his inner thoughts to ...
... They're hustling it in,” said the latter. “That's right. Can't give me yard room any too soon. The drive'll be down next month. Plenty doing then. Damn those Dutchmen!” He spoke abstractedly, as though voicing his inner thoughts to ...
Strana
... they're a tough lot. It's too close here to Marion.” “That is too bad,” condoled Fox, “especially as I remember so well what a softspoken, lamblike little tin angel you used to be, Jim.” Fox, who had quite dropped his old office self ...
... they're a tough lot. It's too close here to Marion.” “That is too bad,” condoled Fox, “especially as I remember so well what a softspoken, lamblike little tin angel you used to be, Jim.” Fox, who had quite dropped his old office self ...
Strana
... they're at work.” “Dicky Darrell is over at Marion,” spoke up one of the scalers. “Roaring Dick,” said Tally sarcastically, “—but there's no denying he's a good man in the woods. But if he's at Marion, he's drunk; and if he's drunk, you ...
... they're at work.” “Dicky Darrell is over at Marion,” spoke up one of the scalers. “Roaring Dick,” said Tally sarcastically, “—but there's no denying he's a good man in the woods. But if he's at Marion, he's drunk; and if he's drunk, you ...
Strana
... They're always hollering for what they call their 'rights.' That generally means they try to hang up our drive. The average mossback's a hard customer. I'd rather try to drive nails in a snowbank than tackle driving logs through a farm ...
... They're always hollering for what they call their 'rights.' That generally means they try to hang up our drive. The average mossback's a hard customer. I'd rather try to drive nails in a snowbank than tackle driving logs through a farm ...
Obsah
PART THREE | |
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V | |
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VIIIIXXXI XII | |
XIII | |
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XIX | |
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XXI | |
XXII | |
XXIII | |
XXIV | |
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PART FOUR | |
PART FIVE | |
IV | |
V | |
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XXI | |
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XXVII | |
XXVIII | |
XXIX | |
XXX | |
XXXI | |
XXXII | |
XXXIII | |
XXXIV | |
XXXV | |
XXXVI | |
XXXVII | |
XXXVIII | |
XXXIX | |
XL | |
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ain’t asked Bob Baker blue Bob found Bob looked Bob saw Bob’s boys buckboard California John camp can’t cañon cattle caught Charley Morton couldn’t course cried Bob didn’t drive dropped Elliott eyes face feet fire followed forest forward George Pollock going grinned guess hand he’s head Henry Plant horse I’ve isn’t Jack Pollock Jim Pollock knew land laughed leaned logs lumber matter meadow Merker mill mountain never nodded Oldham once Orde pile pine Plant ranger ride river riverman road Roaring Dick rode Ross Fletcher saddle Saleratus Bill Samuels seemed side smoke sort stared stood stream Supervisor sure talk Tally tell There’s they’re things Thorne thought timber tiny told Tom Carroll tomorrow took trail trees turned walked Ware we’ll we’ve Welton What’s Wolverine won’t you’ll you’re young man’s