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"Well, we shall soon see," said the duke, as, with a resigned air, he followed Mr. Setter into the house. The detective led him up stairs to the gaudy parlor which had once been Rose Cameron's sitting-room. There was no one present; but the detective handed a chair to the duke, and begged him to sit down and wait for Mrs. Brown's appearance.
Don't you wish you were rich?" "No, Ellen, I don't know that I ever do." But as the winter got on and the news of Ada Brown's engagement was confirmed, he must have wished it a great many times.
Brown's buggy, and Amelia Fitch held the horse while he went inside to inspect Mr. Clegg. The visit did not consume more than ten minutes, and then he hurried out to the gate and was off. The buggy was hardly out of sight up the road when Miss Clegg emerged from her kitchen door, her face bearing an imprint of deep and thorough disgust. "Well, Mrs.
Then he looked back. Shadow the Weasel was only a few jumps behind him, and his little eyes glowed red and savage. Farmer Brown's boy might not hurt him, but Shadow certainly would. Shadow would kill him. Happy Jack made up his mind, and with a little gasp raced madly across the snow straight to Farmer Brown's boy and ran right up to his shoulder.
She was on her way home with a tender young chicken for Reddy Fox. Poor Reddy! Of course, it was his own fault, for he had been showing off and he had been careless or he never would have gone so near to the old tree trunk behind which Farmer Brown's boy was hiding. But old Granny Fox didn't know this. She never makes such mistakes herself. Oh, my, no!
Each time, Brown opened and closed the door as though an instant's heat were too precious to be lost. Brown's eyes were constantly upon the wavering needle of the steam gauge. Andrews, sitting in the fireman's seat, was leaning from the window, glancing first ahead and then back. Except for that first shout of triumph, he had been calm and deliberate. "Enough for now," shouted Brown. "Rest!"
Don't let go; he doesn't like this pandemonium any better than I do." In a moment Dick was on his feet and ready for business, and for the second time that day he gripped a bit of strap, with the resolve to hold on at all costs. Only this horse was a beautiful chestnut, with a coat like satin, and harness that must have cost more than carrier Brown's whole turn-out.
Sun had gone to bed behind the Purple Hills that night, Unc' Billy crept out of his home in the hollow tree. "Where are yo' going?" demanded Mrs. Possum. "Just to stretch the kinks out of mah legs," replied Unc' Billy. Old Mrs. Possum looked after him suspiciously. "Don't yo' go fo' to do any foolishness!" she called. Unc' Billy didn't answer. He was on his way to Farmer Brown's hen-house.
But alas! even her agitation seemed to make her more charming to her two remaining lovers. Had the boys at the saloon comprehended in the least the cause of Miss Brown's uneasiness, they would have promptly put both Lecomte and Toledo out of the camp, or out of the world.
Brown's extensive preparations one might have supposed that they had previously been starving for time uncounted. "Heigho!" said Jim. "Our last day to-morrow." Groans followed from Harry and Wally. "What do you want to remind a fellow for?" "Couldn't help it slipped out. What a jolly sell not to see old Dad again!" Jim wrinkled his brown handsome face into a frown.
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