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Did I tell you the nickname they gave me 'King'? That was what they called me at that school, 'King Minafer." "How'd they happen to do that?" his friend asked innocently. "Oh, different things," George answered lightly.

"I reckon you're lucky to be alive," laughed the man who had been soaking him from a pail of water. "Who be ye?" "My name is Phil Forrest." "How'd ye git in that car? Stealing a ride, eh? Reckon we'd better hand ye over to the town constable. It's again the law to steal rides on freight trains." "I've not stolen a ride. It's no such thing," protested Phil indignantly. "Ho, ho, that's a rich one!

He that watched kept on his own side the street and moved on abreast to the corner, where he crossed over and joined the other. He was quite small alongside the man he accosted. "How'd you make out, Matt?" he asked. The other grunted indistinctly, and walked on in silence a few steps. "I reckon I landed the goods," he said. Jim chuckled in the darkness, and waited for further information.

"All right, fire away," he burst out at last, "but first tell me, for Gawd's sake, how'd you do it?" "What?" queried Pan, looking round from his survey of the farm land. "Mother! She's well. She wasn't well at all," exclaimed the older man, breathing hard. "An' that girl! Did you ever see such eyes?" "Reckon I never did," replied Pan, with joyous bluntness. "This mornin' I left Lucy crushed.

"Oh, in course he may," said Barney; "oh musha, musha, wirrasthrue, how'd I ever be looking the misthress and the young ladies in the face, av I was taking him home dead and buried as he's likely to be, av he don't hit that owld masther of yours in the very first go off;" and then the man's air of triumph at the idea of his master's shooting Jonas Brown, turned to despondency as the thought struck him that the Counsellor might be shot himself.

How'd it happen? he asked. 'I don't know. 'How's the pulse? he enquired, feeling for my wrist. I let him hold it in his hand. 'Will you bring me some water in a glass? he enquired, turning to Mrs Brower, just as I had seen him do many a time in Gerald's illness. Before she came with the water his head fell forward upon his breast, while he muttered feebly.

Gardener Jim, going home from his work, came up to the fence and leaned on it, eying the garden critically. "Well, Wilfred," said he, "you've done a good day's work." The youth and maid came forward. His arm was about her waist and her cheeks were pink. "How'd you leave the twins?" asked Wilfred. Gardener Jim looked off into the road vista, and shook all over, mirthlessly.

How do you like it, Blenham? How'd you like to have it this way all the time?" Blenham's only answer lay in his leaping forward, out from his corner, and striking; Royce's answer to that was another quiet laugh. He had slipped aside; Blenham had flailed at the thin air; Royce, grown still again, knew one of the moments of sheer joy which had been his during these last weary months.

"How'd you get down here?" asked Lounsbury. "I didn't eat for a long time. I was crazy. The snow blinded me, and I was hungry. But I didn't leave the river I knew enough for that they found me." "You think the women are alive, Colonel?" asked the storekeeper. "Undoubtedly, and with the other half of the very band we've got here somewhere up in the Big Horn country."

When he noticed the girl's unusual appearance, he scurried down the ladder, waddled across the kitchen, and stood in front of his friend. "What air the matter, brat?" he quivered. Solicitous, he helped her into a chair near the fire and took off her hat and coat. The blood from the neck wound had made crimson blotches on her white waist. "Ye're hurt, honey," he cried, alarmed. "How'd it happen?"