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Updated: April 30, 2025
Barbazon and Jowett lifted the motionless figure in their arms, and carried it into a little room. Then Osterhaut picked up the horseshoe tied with its gay blue ribbons, now stained with blood, and put it in his pocket. "For luck," he said.
Nom de Dieu, there's nothing you're doing, or mean to do, but'll hurt me and everybody." "That's your view, is it, Barbazon?" exclaimed Marchand loudly, for the crowd was now almost at the door. "You're a nice Frenchman and patriot. That crowd'll be glad to hear you think they're fools. Suppose they took it into their heads to wreck the place?"
The strike'll be on after the funeral, and after the strike's begun there'll be eh, bien sur!" He paused sharply, as though he had gone too far. "There'll be what?" whispered the other; but Marchand made no reply, save to make a warning gesture, for Barbazon, the landlord, had entered behind the bar.
"They're coming back, Barbazon," Marchand said to the landlord, jerking his head towards the front door. The noise of the crowd was increasing, the raucous shouts were so loud that the three had to raise their voices. "You'll do a land-office business to-night," he declared. Barbazon had an evil face.
Barbazon and Jowett lifted the motionless figure in their arms, and carried it into a little room. Then Osterhaut picked up the horseshoe tied with its gay blue ribbons, now stained with blood, and put it in his pocket. "For luck," he said.
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