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I tell you it makes business lively fer the lawyers an sheriffs. They're the ones ez rides in kerridges these days." "Is the jail pretty full now?" "Chock full, hed to send a batch up ter Lenox las' week, an got em packed bout's thick's they'll lay naow, like codfish in a bar'l. Haow in time I'm a gonter make room fer the fellers the court'll send in nex' week, I d'now, derned if I dew.
"Sure," said Brit and rode over to where the sheriff was standing. The sheriff listened, nodded, beckoned to Swan. "The court'll have to settle up the estate and find his heirs, if he's got any. But you look after things what's your name? Vjolmar how yuh spell it? I'll swear you in as a deputy. Good Lord, you're a husky son-of-a-gun!"
Then the county court'll take your boy and bind him out to somebody, and you'll have no word to say in the matter, at all. But you can suit yourself." "It kind of shook me," she muttered, the mother-love, the honor and justice in her quailing heart shrinking back before the threat of that terrible disgrace the poorhouse. The shadow of the poorhouse had stood in her way for years.
"The court'll decide that, sir," replied the imperturbable Davis. "And if you go to shoutin' off your sea-lawyer mouth," Mr. Pike continued, "I'll jerk you out of that and show you what real work is." "An' lay the owners open for lovely damages when we get in," Davis sneered. "Not if I bury you before we get in," was the mate's quick, grim retort.
"Sure," said Brit and rode over to where the sheriff was standing. The sheriff listened, nodded, beckoned to Swan. "The court'll have to settle up the estate and find his heirs, if he's got any. But you look after things what's your name? Vjolmar how yuh spell it? I'll swear you in as a deputy. Good Lord, you're a husky son-of-a-gun!"
If she gets on the job Court'll be dead in love with her before the midwinter exams.!" "I'll believe it when I see it," said Tennelly, rising. "All right," said Bill. "Remember you're in for a banquet during vacation. Fricaseed hat the pièce de resistance!" It was a sumptuous library in which Gila Dare awaited the coming of Paul Courtland.
He had $42,000,000 in preferred stocks and bonds with solid gold edges. In these times, to be called a caliph you must have money. The old-style caliph business as conducted by Mr. Rashid is not safe. If you hold up a person nowadays in a bazaar or a Turkish bath or a side street, and inquire into his private and personal affairs, the police court'll get you.
He jerked his head towards the boy, then towards the outhouse or scullery where his wife was. "She takes it terr'ble hard. She wanted me to run. But I said, 'No, I'll stan' it out. Mr. Brown at the Court'll give you the bit wages he owes me. But they'll have to go on the Union. Everybody'll turn their backs on them now."
He was not sure, though, when he heard one of the voices, that he would not have listened, if he had any call to do so. For it was the voice of his old acquaintance the convict. "No safety like a thick fog, Juliar! I'll pay her a visit this very afternoon, so soon as ever you've given me some belly-timber. Sapps Court'll be as black as an inch-thick of ink for twelve hours yet.
Goin' to hang out your own shingle, eh?" "I might, if I got my license." "Oh, that's easy," replied the other; "it's mostly a matter of form. The court'll appoint a committee of three members of the bar, an' they'll tell you when they want to see you for the circus some evening after court. They'll ask you where you've been readin' law, an' for how long.
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