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Scotty found a handkerchief and blew his nose violently. "Pretty strong coffee," Rick managed finally. Scotty nodded, struggling to keep a straight face. Neither of them wanted to risk hurting the guide's feelings. "Hassan," Rick said at last, "even American science couldn't keep a live, wide-awake cat quiet in a paper parcel. This cat is a model, a statue. You see?"
In a few moments Hassan swung the little car to the curb and pointed to the nearest building. "There 5022." Rick started to get out, then he asked curiously, "How do you know, Hassan? I thought you couldn't read." "No can read words. Read numbers plenty good. Could not take people to places if could not read numbers." That made sense, Rick thought. Scotty let out a sudden exclamation.
"Our own reputation for being able to take care of ourselves is not helping us, either." "I'll never go into a place without two entrances again," Rick promised. There was a moment's shocked silence while the boys stared at each other. They spoke simultaneously. "How do you know this has only one entrance?" "How do we know this hasn't two entrances?" They had never reached the end of the mine.
The cave was just about large enough for both of them. It was a typical coral formation, not much different from the reef outside, except that the brass ball was in the center of the rough floor. The boys examined the cave thoroughly and saw nothing of interest. Rick pushed at Scotty's shoulder and swam out again. Scotty followed. The octopus watched them go.
One of his team was lame, and a great friend of his was sulky and had sent him away, and yet he sat radiantly cheerful, with a large cigar in his mouth and a small terrier by his side, subjecting every lady who passed to a respectful and covert but none the less searching and severe examination. "I say, Rick, have you seen Haddington lately?"
Old Yuill's son escaped by burying himself in a peat- rick, and Snecky Hobart by pretending that he was a sack of potatoes. Less fortunate was Sanders Webster, the mole-catcher already mentioned. Sanders was really an innocent man.
He spoke from experience of the arduous work of unloading and the passing of heavy weights, sometimes from the bed of the waggon to the summit of the rick; for, as my bailiff often said, "Nobody knows so well where the shoe pinches as the man who has to wear it." Steam has not done all that was expected of it as an agricultural slave.
If we go barging around in the speedboat, we might throw a monkey wrench into the works." "But we can't just stand here and do nothing," Scotty said desperately. "We won't. Go get the plane warmed up and wait for me." Rick hurried into the house and ran up the stairs to Barby's room. Working fast, he went through the dresser, then through the shelves in her closet.
The stranger lifted the pistol menacingly. "You'd better sing, and it better be straight. I'm warning you!" "Warn all you like," Rick said angrily. "What do you want us to say?" The shadow walked over and pulled back his fist. "Lay off!" the stranger growled. "You've pulled enough stupid stunts for one day. You'll be lucky if the boss doesn't rip the hide off you."
"I was just after churning my butter when what should I see looking in the door but that thief of a Tinker with the beard like a rick of hay! Thinks I to myself, sure, my butter will be bewitched and never come at all with the bad luck of a stranger, and he a Tinker, coming in the house!
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