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Really, when you reflect, it is unjust to assume your tertium quid and complicate the story yet. We have no actual evidence of her obliquity." "No," said Mac. "Let's wait." "We must," I replied. "The children themselves will no doubt provide us with plenty of food for conjecture if they go on as they have begun. We are good friends now, they and I."
Does he go to view it, thinkest thou, or does he shun the fight? If he go he is a fiend; and if he stay away he is worse! The battle being ended and the rage of Mr. Mac Fane, though perhaps increased, obliged to restrain itself, there stood I, surrounded by my applauding admirers, suffering a thousand ridiculous interrogatories, and confined to the spot for the want of clothes!
Buck Daniels stared, blinked, and then burst into unmelodious laughter. Satan trotted across the corral and raised his head above the fence, whinnying softly. Barry turned his head and smiled up to the horse. Then he said: "Seems like if Jerry Strann dies I owe somebody something. Who? Mac Strann, I reckon. I sort of got to stay and give him his chance."
And, oh, Doctor Mac, he has promised me never to make white liquor again. I have saved the best news for the last. Miss Merriman is going to take me to Boston with her. She says that her family have taken an apartment in the city, and that I may live with them until I get into the hospital. This makes me very happy, and I hope that you will be pleased, too.
"It was not printed in this room," he said; "this is black ink and the other purplish. It was done by a thick pen, and these are fine. No, it was done elsewhere, I should say. Can you make anything of the inscription, Ames?" "No, sir, nothing." "What do you think, Mr. Mac?" "It gives me the impression of a secret society of some sort; the same with his badge upon the forearm."
The steam tug neared the bulky and huge vessel, and Mac was finally taken on board by United States Marshal Fiske and Deputy Marshals Robinson, Crowley and Colfax, and given into the custody of the English detectives, Sergts. Webb and Hancock, who in return gave the usual receipt to Marshal Fiske. For the present, I leave Mac on the Atlantic, sailing swiftly eastward, to meet his terrible doom.
Though you wouldn't guess the knowledge was there unless you did pump for it, for "Mac" was not of the type of those who overwork the first person pronoun, not because of foolish diffidence but merely because it rarely occurred to him as a subject of conversation.
I wish all our young folks were likely to have as small a crop and get through as safely as she will," added Uncle Mac with a shake of the head as he glanced at some of the young men revolving before him. "Nothing amiss with your lads, I hope?" "No, thank heaven! So far I've had little trouble with either, though Mac is an odd stick and Steve a puppy.
Evidently Casey was disappointed not to get another cursing, for he turned to his comrade, McDermott, an axman. "Say, Mac, phwot do you make of cowboys?" "I tell ye, Pat, I make of thim thet you'll be full of bulletholes before this railroad's built." "Thin, b'gosh, I'll hould drink fer a long time yit," replied Casey.
As he set down his glass with a bang he suddenly exclaimed: "What's the matter with you these days, Mac? You got a bean about somethun, hey? Spit ut out." "No, no," replied McTeague, looking about on the floor, rolling his eyes; "nothing, no, no." "Ah, rats!" returned the other. McTeague kept silence. The two billiard players departed. The huge music-box struck into a fresh tune.
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