United States or Timor-Leste ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I sint mine down to Mick to keep for me jist a bit of paper written in pencil it was and it got lost some ways; but I have a copy of it I med at the time." "Where is the copy now?" "At Mick's place." "You must tell Mick to bring it in. Now where is this place, Pike's?" "Out this side of the opal-fields.
Chaps used to go there after gold, but so few of them came back that they chucked it and left the place alone. The Musgraves have got a bad name." Mick Darby did not know that everything he said had a very personal application to one at least of his companions. The words of his father's note kept ringing in Sax's ears: "In difficulties. Musgrave Ranges. In difficulties.
"Hay is meant for horses and asses," I answered drily, with a grin; "and if you be one of them latter, as I think, and so does Mick here I know, why, I did refer to you!" "Want ter fight?" "Yes," I said, launching out my fist straight towards his bullet head and giving him a cropper on the mouth that sent him tumbling backwards on the deck, all of a heap; "I do."
The unequal tussle was soon over. Mick was a big heavy man, and the lads were light and were not used to matching their strength against the endurance of a man. First one and then the other was thrown back. They came on again, however, till, with a sudden jerk, Mick flung the whip away from him, and faced them with his bare hands. Sax and his friend were breathless.
"The finding of the car puzzled me at first, I admit," he said. "Now, assuming that Mick the Wolf has not sent us off on a wild-goose chase, the locality of the steamer explains it. He's a bold rogue, and no mistake." But Carshaw answered not. The chief glanced at him sideways, and smiled. There was a lowering fire in his companion's eyes that told its own story.
On the very Sunday evening that Voles and Fowle were concocting their vile and mysterious scheme, Mick the Wolf, their trusted associate, partner of Voles in many a desperate enterprise in other lands, was sitting in an armchair up-stairs listening to Winifred reading from a book she had found in her bedroom.
I simply looked at Mm, and said sudden, "Git, you Mick," and he wilted back out of the office just as easy as if he hadn't had ten cents.
The tramp of the ascending troopers was heard. "Good bye my hearties," said Mick, and he made the spring. He seemed stunned, but he might recover. Morley watched him and flung the box. "And now," he said drawing a pistol, "we may fight our way yet. I'll shoot the first man who enters, and then you must rush on them with your bludgeons."
'Mick Leamy, sor, sez I, 'from Misther W. wid the sparks. 'Oh, sez he, 'thin come in. I wint in. 'They're in here, are they? sez he, takin' the bag. 'They are, sor, sez I, 'an' Misther W. sez I'm to have me reg'lars. 'You shall, sez he. 'What shall we say, now afinnip? 'Fwhat's that, sor? sez I. 'Oh, sez he, 'I s'pose ye're a new hand; five quid ondershtand that?"
But just then the rough voice of Mick himself was heard calling to them to come back; for they had wandered to some little distance from the other children, who were quarrelling and shouting near the vans. "Come back you brats, will ye?" he roared. And the poor little things, like frightened sheep, followed by Tim, hurried back.
Word Of The Day