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I didn't try to write no more." "I can see how you couldn't," faltered the girl, as she turned away. "I'm afraid we're all going to find it too big for us," John McGuire had not been home twenty-four hours before it was known that he "took it powerful hard." To Keith Susan told what she had learned.
"'Cordin' to yer own showin', one of them infarnal copper-gals was at the bottom of the hull business, and it's like as not the men knowed about it, too, and didn't want to catch the gal!" "There's where yees are mightily mistook, as Pat McGuire said whin his landlord called him honest, for ivery one of them same chocolate-colored gintlemen would have done their bist for Master Harvey.
But Susan's eyes were out the window on Keith's face Keith and his father were coming up the walk talking; and on Keith's face was a light Susan had never seen there before. It came to be the accepted thing almost at once, then, that Keith Burton and John McGuire should spend their mornings together on the McGuires' back porch.
Now they hung over Hal's head in a suspense fast becoming unbearable. At length he decided that, in fairness to his staff, he should warn them of the situation. He chose, for the explanation, one of the Talk-It-Over Breakfasts, the first one which McGuire Ellis, released temporarily from the hospital for the occasion, had attended since his wound.
He explained his difficulty to Mrs. McGuire, and she proposed that he should remain close at hand all the forenoon; near enough to fly to the house as a refuge, if needful. If Pietro did not appear in that time, he probably would not at all. Phil agreed to this plan, and accordingly began to play and sing in the neighborhood, keeping a watchful lookout for the enemy.
"I wouldn't advise ye to thry it," said Mrs. McGuire, coolly. "Move aside, woman, or I will make you," said the Italian, angrily. "I'll stay where I am. Shure, it's my own house, and I have a right to do it." "Pietro," said the padrone, with sudden thought, "he may escape from the front door. Go round and watch it." By his sign Bridget guessed what he said, though it was spoken in Italian.
If I didn't speak to Jinny she'd think I was angry with her, and cry her eyes out. She has a tender heart, poor girl. She is a sensitive soul, and craves for social distinction. She looks to me to secure them a footing in exclusive circles, Mr. McGuire." "I don't know what y're talkin' about," Stub grumbled, "but that's enough of it, see?"
"Air may be all right in the cave. Good water there, too. Says so himself. By Slade's account he's a pretty capable citizen when it comes to looking after himself. Wouldn't wonder if we'd find him fit as a fiddle." "There was no clue to Ives and McGuire?" asked Barnett presently. "None." It was the captain who answered.
McGuire. "I told you to go," she said. "I've got some more wather inside." Pietro stepped back in alarm. He had no disposition to take another warm shower bath, and he had found out to his cost that Bridget McGuire was not a timid woman, or easily frightened. But he had not yet abandoned the siege.
She darted away and vanished. Alan and I lay listening to the voices of the three men. Two were talking in a strange tongue. One called to the man at the microscope, and he responded. The third man said suddenly: "Say, talk English. You know damn well I can't understand that lingo." "We say, McGuire, the two prisoners soon wake up." "What we oughta do is kill 'em. Polter's a fool."
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