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Then Schonholz wandered in five gulden a week board was the magnet a cheese-faced, good-natured German lad with forehead so high that when he raised his hat Marny declared, with a cry of alarm, that his scalp had slipped, and only regained his peace of mind when he had twisted his fat fingers in the lad's forelock to make sure that it was still fast.

No, Marny, you don't can lend me noddings. What vill yourselluf do? Starve!" "Where do you live, Schonholz?" asked Joplin. "By Fizzenbad." "What kind of a place is it baths?" "Yes." "What are they good for?" continued Joplin in a subdued tone. "Noddings, but blenty peoples go." "I can tell you, Joppy," said Pudfut gravely, with a wink at Malone. "There are two spas, both highly celebrated.

When all were seated Schonholz made a statement which was followed with results more astounding to the peace of the coterie than anything which had occurred since the men came together. "I haf bad news, boys," he began, "offle bad news. Mine fader has wrote dat home I must. Nod anuder mark he say vill he gif me. Eef I could sell somedings but dat ees very seldom.

Pudfut held on, and so did Schonholz and Malone, and then the four slipped behind a pile of oil barrels and concentrated their slouch hats and Schonholz slapped his thigh and said with a smothered laugh that it was "sphlendeed!" and Malone and Pudfut agreed, and then the three locked arms and went singing up the street, their eyes on Joplin's pipe-stem legs as he trotted beside Marny on his way to the inn.

"Never felt better in my life," protested Joplin. "No, I'll carry it not heavy " Then he quickened his pace they were all on their way back to the inn and overtook Stebbins and Schonholz. "Stebbins, old man " "Yes, Joppy." "What I told you last night is turning out just as I expected. Heart's been acting queer all morning and my epigastric nerve is very sensitive. Puddy says I look awful.

Lord Ellenboro spent a month there and came back looking like another man. One is for the liver and the other for something or other, I can't recollect what." "Heart?" asked Joplin. "I don't know." He didn't, had never heard the place mentioned until Schonholz had called its name a moment before.

Marny was painting a Dutch lugger with a brown-madder hull and an emerald-green stern, up on the ways for repairs. Pudfut had the children of the Captain posed against a broken windlass rotting in the tall grass near the dock, and Malone and Schonholz, pipe in mouth, were on their backs smoking. "It wasn't their kind of a mornin'," Malone had said.

If he was "sound as a nut," to quote Joplin's own words, certainty of that fact, after an exhaustive examination by men he trusted, would relieve his nervous mind and make him all the happier. The first letter came from Schonholz.

Joplin played with his knife and made an attempt to nibble a slice of Tine's toast, but he made no reply. All the fight of every kind seemed to have been knocked out of him. "Better take Fizzenbad in, Joppy," remarked Pudfut in an undertone. "May do you a lot of good." "How far is it, Schonholz?" asked Joplin, ignoring the Englishman's suggestion.

Got real human in an hour. Stebbins, you're a wonder." The next morning everybody was up bright and early to see Schonholz off. One of Fop Smit's packets was to leave for Rotterdam at seven and Schonholz was a passenger. He could go by rail, but the boat was cheaper. No deceptions had been practised and no illusions indulged in as to the cause of his departure.