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"The way'll be," said Jim Leonard, "to keep in with him, and he'll keep the others from picking on you; they'll be afraid to, on account of his dog. You'll see, he'll be the one to come for you to-night; and if the constable is there the dog won't let him touch you. I never thought of that."

"You mark my word," said Diggory, "as soon as the prefects have gone down to supper those chaps from over the way'll come across and pay us out for throwing that soap. We'd better put a chair against the door." "Look here!" remarked Fletcher junior to his room-mates.

Minty'll die if she ain't dead now!" The tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks, but she ran on, as fast as her feet would carry her, toward Doctor Dexter's. "The way'll be opened," she thought "I'm sure it will." The way was opened in an unexpected fashion, for Doctor Ralph Dexter answered Miss Hitty's frantic ring at his door. "I'd clean forgotten you," she stammered, wholly taken aback.

"Jest as soon as he knows that, it's just too easy for him to keep out of our way. Lucky Jingoss is an Ojibway, and his people are way off south. We can fool this crowd here easy enough; we'll tell 'em we're looking for new locations for winter posts. But she's an awful big country." "Which way'll we go first?" asked Dick, without, however, much interest in the reply.

"The's chickens crowin' away over there." "Chickens crow all times of the night. Don't you remember how our old roosters used to act on Christmas night? I got out of bed four times once, because I thought it was daylight, they would crow so!" "Which way'll we take?" whispered aunt Corinne. Robert slid cautiously from the log and mapped out the expedition.

You have no notion how good it is when fairly believed in. Anyhow you'll have to try, for it won't do to eat up all the biscuit, and have to feed at last on pure pork." "I calls it impure pork," said Slagg; "hows'-ever, capting, you've on'y to give the word and we obey. P'r'aps the best way'll be to put us on allowance."

"No one that comes along this way'll have the price for it," he grumbled. "It'll just set here 'till doomsday." It did seem that the picture failed to fit in with the rest of the shop. A persuasive young fellow who claimed he was closing out his stock let the old man have it for what he called a song. It was only a little out-of-the-way store which subsisted chiefly on the framing of pictures.

"The way'll be," said Jim Leonard, "to keep in with him, and he'll keep the others from picking on you; they'll be afraid to, on account of his dog. You'll see, he'll be the one to come for you to-night; and if the constable is there the dog won't let him touch you. I never thought of that."