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Be comforted, for there is one near who would have killed you had I wished it. Remember, I will come to you whenever you will take me and hide me." Light footsteps pattered down the stairs. I heard a stifled cry from Mrs. Dolan as the mysterious visitor ran past her. The front door opened and closed.
But let Dolan tell it to Hendricks three days later, as the two are sitting at night on the stone bridge across the Sycamore built by John Barclay to commemorate the battle of Sycamore Ridge. "'Well, Mart, says I, 'I'm in vicarious trouble, says I. 'It's along of my orphan asylum, says I. 'What orphan asylum? says he.
"I ain't lost any Luke Tweezys," observed Racey, looking up at the ceiling. "I wonder how long Luke is figuring on staying in town," went on Judge Dolan, sticking like a stamp to his original subject. "Nothing to me." "It might be. It might be. You never can tell about them things, Racey." Racey Dawson's eyes came down from the ceiling. He studied the Judge's face attentively.
"Shucks, suppose now those handwritin' experts Judge Dolan got from Chicago hadn't been able to prove at the time that the forgery and the fifty or sixty copies of yore dad's name were written by the same hand, ink, and pen? Suppose now they hadn't? What then? Where'd you be, I'd like to know? Nawsir, you give them the credit. They deserve it. Well, I'm shore glad yo're all gonna be rich, Molly.
There was an awkward pause when Dolan came on the veranda. The general had just tried to break the ice, but Dolan was going at too high a speed to be checked. "Do you know," he asked, "what I always remember when I hear that call? You do not. I'll tell you.
She heard Adrian Brownwell go, but she could not face him, and listened as his footsteps died away, and he passed from her life. And John Barclay kept vigil for the dead with her. As he tossed in his bed through the night, he seemed to see glowing out of the darkness before him the words Hendricks had written, in the letter that Dolan gave Barclay at midnight. Sometimes the farewell came to him:
Tobacco! tobacco! If there's anything I hate worse than a dandy, it is tobacco. Such a headache as I have this morning, all for that vile pipe that Bridget Dolan's husband was smoking, when I went over to see her. Charley, I believe if an Irishman hadn't a potato to put in his blarney-ing mouth, he would own a pipe and a puppy. Jim Dolan had both.
He got him out of many a tight place on the strength of that medal; and he would have looked out for him until the last, but he shipped on an East Indian, and drifted out of our reach. And this medal was left here by a boy, you say, my man?" "Good!" said the old Captain, eagerly. "I'll give him his price. Who and where is the boy?" "His name is Dan Dolan and he lives at Killykinick."
For ten days, in the desultory debate that had droned through the summer, the general, true to his former contention, insisted that there was only one person in the world. Mr. Dolan, with the Celtic elasticity of reason, was willing to admit two. "You and me and no more all the rest is background for us," he proclaimed.
"I really put up too much one year," Lydia said, "and it began to spoil, so I sent a whole box of it out to the Poor House; I don't suppose they mind! But Mrs. Dolan there never sent my glasses back! However, this year I'll give you some, Mart; unless Polly put some up." "Unless I go to New York!" Martie suggested. Lydia's whole face darkened.
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