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Johnny Pym has got a goat he can hitch up. What was that, pa? What was that went 'OoOOoohm!" "Whoa, Nell, whoa there! Steady, gal, steaday! Ho, there! Ho! Whoa whoa-hup! Whad dy y' about? Fool horse. Whoa... whoa so, gal, soo-o. Lion, I guess, or a tagger, or sumpum or other." And talk about music. You thought the band was grand. You just wait. Don't you hear it down the street?
Miss Lambart started in her chair; the baroness uttered a gasping grunt; she blinked; she could not believe her ears. "But whad but whad " she said faintly. "Old red peeg," said the princess, somewhat pleased with the effect of the words, and desirous of deepening it. "Bud whad ees eed zat 'appen?" muttered the bewildered baroness.
Gordon had a sensation as if a lump of ice had been drawn down his spine. For the man who had just come in was Big Bill Macy, and he was looking at the field agent with eyes in which amazement, anger, and triumph blazed. "I'm glad to death to meet up with you again, Mr. Elliot," he jeered. "Seems like old times on Wild-Goose." "Whad you say his name is?" cut in the man with the newspaper.
"Whad he mean when he said you could tell me how he'd settled with her?" he growled. "He whipped her last night when I took her back to camp." "Took her back to camp, did you? Why didn't you bring her to me? Who's in charge of this outfit, anyhow, young fellow, me lad?" "McRae's too big a man for us to buck. Too influential with the half-breeds.
"He has broken more windows than any other boy of his age in South London." The Prince sullenly withdrew his hand empty. "Well, whad do you wad?" he snarled. "Resistance is useless," said Clarence. "The moment I have plotted and planned for has come. Your troops, worn out with fighting, mere shadows of themselves, have fallen an easy prey.
"All de vorlt is at vor!" said the linguist, waving his cocoa in an illustrative manner, "all de vorlt is at vor!" Bert stared southward into the dawn. It did not seem so. "All de vorlt is at vor! They haf burn' Berlin; they haf burn' London; they haf burn' Hamburg and Paris. Chapan hass burn San Francisco. We haf mate a camp at Niagara. Dat is whad they are telling us.
"Zey are nod children; zey are nod 'igh an' well-born," said the baroness in rasping tones. "Then you must find some high and well-born children for me to play with," said the princess. "Moost? Moost?" cried the baroness in a high voice. "Bud eed ees whad I know ees goot for you." "They're good for me," said the princess firmly. "And you must find them."
The eyes of the two crossed like rapiers. "Howcome you here? Whad you want?" asked Roush thickly. Already he had made up his mind to kill, but he wanted to choose his own moment. The instinct of the killer is always to take his enemy at advantage. Clanton, with that sixth sense which serves the fighter, read his purpose as if he had printed it on a sign.
"Whad you aimin' to do?" asked West uneasily. He was not sure yet that he was out of the woods. "Roll up in the blankets," ordered Morse. The fellow looked at his grim face and did as he was told. Tom tied him to the tree, after making sure that his hands were fast behind him. "I'll freeze here," the convict complained.
'Sieur Frowenfel', I thing dad Honoré Grandissime is one bad man, ent it? Whad you thing, 'Sieur Frowenfel'?" "I think, as I said to you the last time, that he is one of the best, as I know that he is one of the kindest and most enlightened gentlemen in the city," said the apothecary. "Ah, 'Sieur Frowenfel'! ha, ha!" "That is my conviction." The lady went on with her story.
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