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Updated: June 4, 2025
A smirk of self-congratulation soon decorated Sir Fassade's handsome face. A loud belch and a louder laugh announced the commencement of Sir Bargle's shooting. As predicted by Sir Philo, Sir Bargle was an excellent shot.
As they reached the works the first man they encountered was big Bargle, who stuck his spade into the soft peat and came slowly up the embankment, to stand wiping his fist on his side, before opening it and holding it out, smiling broadly the while.
The third reason that the king's advisor was grieved about the "score ahead and wed" method of selecting the princess' groom was that the only person in all the realm who could outshoot Sir Bargle was Sir Philo. Prithee, talk not to me about psychic conflict nay, psychic trauma, for I have seen it here, and it is not gentle.
"No, my man," said Mr Marston, taking a spade and cutting down some more of the turf, so as to lay bare the figure from the middle of the thigh to the feet. "Lemme come," growled Bargle, striding forward and almost snatching the sharp spade from his leader's hand. "Don't hurt it," cried Mr Marston, giving way.
"Now that we are prepared, you will see that we shall not be interfered with, and my arming the men will save bloodshed instead of causing it." "Think so, sir?" "I am sure of it, my lad. Besides, if I had not done something, my men would not have stayed. Even Bargle said it was getting too warm. He said he was not afraid, but he would not stay.
Mr Marston gave prompt orders, which resulted in a shallow grave being dug in the peat about fifty yards from where the drain was being cut, and in this the strange figure was carefully laid, ready for exhumation by any naturalist who should wish to investigate farther; and after this was done, and a careful search made for remains of weapons or coins, the cutting of the drain progressed; till, after an enjoyable day with the engineer, the boys said good-bye, and tried to escape without having to shake hands with Bargle.
Dick shuddered at the object before him: the figure of a man clothed apparently in some kind of leather garb, and partly uncovered from the position it had occupied in the peat. "Some un been murdered and berrid," growled Bargle, who was close behind.
But this was not to be. The big fellow waylaid them, smiling and holding out his hand to Dick for a farewell grip, and a declaration that they were mates. About half-way back, and just as it was growing toward sundown, they were met by Hickathrift, who came up smiling, and looking like a Bargle carefully smoothed down.
"And the peculiar part of the business is," said Mr Marston, "that big Bargle saw the person who fired the last of the houses." The engineer looked at Dick as he spoke. "Why didn't he catch him then?" said Dick sharply, for Mr Marston's look annoyed him; "he is big enough." "Don't speak pertly, Dick!" said his father sternly.
Then you were woke out of your sleep by a blow, eh?" "Weer I? I don't know." "Tell me who have you had a quarrel with lately?" "Quarrel?" "Well, row, then." "Wi' him," said the big fellow, pointing at Dick. "Oh, but he would not have come to you in the night!" "Who said he would, mester?" growled Bargle menacingly. "Not he. He'd come up square and give a man a doubler in the chest and "
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