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Time and again he was swept back from reaching Tim Griggs, who was easily the center of this volcanic outburst of human passion. "Boys!" roared Tim. "We'll want to know these coyotes to-morrow. Black the left eye of each rascal. I'll black both of Jim Duff's." Two heavy, sodden impacts sounded during a brief pause in the noise, attesting to the fact that the gambler had been decorated.
Several made for him, brandishing short chains from their fetters, which they had managed somehow to loosen and sever. Others beat the sentry's brains out, and overthrew the howitzer. The noise thus made, and Duff's loud calls to alarm the ship, caused Rucker and one or two seamen to run hastily down the companionway.
But, unless you climbed hedges, you could not get to the pool from this quarter without going round, near the gamekeeper's. The path which led to Verner's Pride past the pool, and which Rachel had taken that unfortunate night, had its commencement higher up in the village, above Mrs. Duff's.
She did not even abate the usual number of Duff's invitations to dinner, when there was certainly nothing to repay her for regarding him across a gulf of flowers and silver and a tide of conversation about the season's paper-chasing except the impoverished complexion which people acquire who sit much in Bentinck street, desirous and unsatisfied.
There were several of these steady-cooks on board; men of no mark or consideration whatever in the ship; lost to all noble promptings; sighing for no worlds to conquer, and perfectly contented with mixing their duff's, and spreading their mess-cloths, and mustering their pots and pans together three times every day for a three years' cruise.
And Matthew's surmise, that the same thing might have alarmed Dan Duff, was perfectly probable. Mr. Bourne determined to ascertain the latter fact, as soon as Dan should be in a state of sufficient convalescence, bodily and mentally, to give an account. He had already paid one visit to Mrs. Duff's as that lady informed Lionel.
It really was going on that evening in the laundry at Verner's Pride, whatever it may have been doing in the other various branches and departments. The laundry-maids had had heavy labour on their hands that day, and they were hard at work still, while Mrs. Verner slept. "Here's Mother Duff's Dan a-coming in!" exclaimed one of the women, glancing over her ironing-board to the yard.
Then he began tying his paddles to the canoe thwarts in preparation for packing it across the portage. As he was tying on the second paddle, Duff's eye fell on him. "What's up, McCuaig?" he said. "Aren't you going up to the Post?" "No, I guess I ain't goin' up no more," replied McCuaig slowly. "What do you mean? You aren't going back home?" "No.
This communication throws a most welcome light upon the attitude of his people with respect to the momentous events that are in progress, and also it reveals to what a high standard of intellectual culture a pure Zulu may attain." "Duff's Road, Durban, November 3rd, 1899.
"Mind you have your wits sharp about you this time, Mr. Duff," he remarked. Which piece of advice had the effect of scaring Mr. Duff's wits more completely away than they had been scared before. "You tell us that you saw a man pass up the lane when you were in the field after the cat," began Mr. Verner. "Was the man walking fast?" "Please, sir, yes.
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