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Judge DANA, in reply to the remark of some gentlemen, that the southern States were favored in this mode of apportionment, by having five of their negroes set against three persons in the eastern, the honorable judge observed, that the negroes of the southern States work no longer than when the eye of the driver is on them.
Our words he cannot hear and if they are in English he will think all is well." "This is one of those we heard of this afternoon," said the driver. "This Boy Scout. The other is riding to London but he will not go, so far." He laughed at that, and Dick, knowing he was speaking of Harry, shuddered. "Ja, that is all arranged," said the leader, with a chuckle. "Not for long that could not be.
"Well, I have told you the truth." At this moment the coach driver came in sight, accompanied by a policeman. "What's the trouble?" demanded the officer of the law. Tom and Sam told their tale, and then the doctor had his say, and the driver related what he knew. "Certainly a queer mix-up," remarked the policeman. He turned to the Rovers. "What do you want to do?"
He turned to the driver of the coach. "To the Commercial Hotel," he went on, in a loud voice. "And drive as easy as you can." Dan was already in the coach, supporting poor Dick in his arms. Arnold Baxter leaped in and banged the door shut. Soon the coach was moving away from the water front and in the direction of the hotel which had been mentioned.
One was the station agent, who was just entering the building preparatory to locking up for the night, and the others were Jim Young, driver of the "depot wagon," and Doctor Holliday, the South Harniss "homeopath," who had been up to a Boston hospital with a patient and was returning home.
After a moment the driver recovered sufficiently to fall into the habit of obedience, and so drove away. While the three men watched, a burly individual with a red face came hurtling directly at them. If they had not dodged hastily to one side, they would have suffered a collision. "The end of the world is at hand!" this man was shrieking. "Repent! Repent!"
His heart had taken time to beat a stroke in joy during that moment of stress at the house, when she had caused a few seconds' added delay to gather up the crushed and faded flowers. Since speaking to the driver last Garrison had been content to sit beside the girl in silence.
All the others, thanks to speculation and to talent, have made their fortune. Do we breakfast here, Pierrotin?" he said, aloud, slapping that worthy on the shoulder. "I am not the driver," said Pierrotin. "What are you, then?" asked Colonel Husson. "The proprietor," replied Pierrotin.
I heard a hail from one of the forts as we passed down the harbour, and, not long after, the Driver, the very sloop of war that had sent the vessel in, met her, and quite naturally hailed her old prize, also. All this I heard in my prison, and it served to reconcile me to the confinement. As everything was right, the ship did not detain us, and we were permitted to proceed.
I'll just get out, I guess. Where are we, any way?" The driver had fluttered his ticket in the eyes of the branch toll-keeper, and they were now brought to on the highest and most solitary part of the by-road.
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