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| author | Nell Fenwick <122171892+nfenwick@users.noreply.github.com> | 2025-04-26 11:33:11 -0600 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | GitHub <noreply@github.com> | 2025-04-26 11:33:11 -0600 |
| commit | f55b412225fe057d0fc2f63a7c91798191febe8a (patch) | |
| tree | d925379a7e96a932421bb7e24f18b02d6e026b78 | |
| parent | cd25d64b7694a034a1157501e6576739d365e1ea (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | 75855-h/75855-h.htm | 2 |
1 files changed, 1 insertions, 1 deletions
diff --git a/75855-h/75855-h.htm b/75855-h/75855-h.htm index f1d8a71..29d69ad 100644 --- a/75855-h/75855-h.htm +++ b/75855-h/75855-h.htm @@ -27,7 +27,7 @@ <div class='author'> By John Beames </div> - <p style="text-indent:0;">In the Malamute Saloon in Dawson the lights blazed. There was noisy music, whisky and gambling—all the sourdoughs’ dearest joys.</p> + <p>In the Malamute Saloon in Dawson the lights blazed. There was noisy music, whisky and gambling—all the sourdoughs’ dearest joys.</p> <p>Outside it was dark, with the first breath of the Yukon winter in the north wind.</p> <p>“Finn Charley” lugged out a heavy poke and poured a couple of ounces of gold dust into the pan of the scales on the bar. He had become suddenly prosperous and he intended to celebrate.</p> <p>Two members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police entered. The constable took his post at the door, but the corporal walked forward until he stood under the first of the hanging lights, and his keen eyes searched the company, missing no man.</p> |