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Updated: May 20, 2025
Joses pressed his horse's sides with his heels, and went off at a gallop to inspect Bart's prize, coming back in a few minutes smiling all over his face. "He's a fine one, my lad. He's a fine one, Master Bart finest shot to-day. I tell you what, my lad, if I'd shot that great bull I should have thought myself a lucky man."
But he saw only one disembarking passenger who had not yet been surrounded by a group of welcoming relatives, or summoned a robotcab and gone. The man was wearing Vegan clothes, but he wasn't Bart's father. He was a fat little man, with ruddy cheeks and a fringe of curling gray hair all around his bald dome. Maybe he'd know if there was another Vegan on the ship.
A score of bullets came whizzing about Bart's ears, and as the reports of the pieces echoed from the face of the mountain, the cob reared right up and fell over backwards, Bart saving himself by a nimble spring on one side, and fortunately retaining his hold of the bridle as the cob scrambled up.
Bart's lips seemed cracking and his throat parched and burning, but this was all borne in fortitude; and as he saw the Indians on either side of him, bearing the inconveniences without a murmur, he forebore to complain.
Neb's old leather wallet began to fill up as it had never been filled before. And the dinners that were served on the "Lady Jane," the broiled, the baked, the fried fish dished up in rich plenty every day, shook Brother Bart's allegiance to Irish stews, and, as he declared, "would make it aisy for a heretic to keep the Friday fast forever."
He blessed his lucky stars that he had such a bright and dependable substitute at hand as Darry Haven. The latter soon made his school and home arrangements, and Bart left affairs in his hands about ten o'clock, catching the train west after getting a pass for the Cardysville round trip. It was two o'clock when the train arrived at Bart's destination.
Stirling could now distinguish night from day, and in a few weeks they intended to take him to an expert oculist in the city for special treatment. Amid all this encouragement, Bart's life was filled with contentment and earnest endeavor, and he tried to deserve the good fortune that was his lot, and fulfill every duty thoroughly.
One of the policemen brought up an auger which evidently had been used to bore the hole for the wire to pass through, for the fresh sawdust was still in its whorls. "Who does this belong to?" Prince asked Deborah. "It's Bart's," said Deborah, staring; "he was using it along with other tools to make some deal boxes for master, who was going away.
That night strong outposts were formed, for the Indians were about in great force; but no attack was made, and at daybreak, on a lovely morning, they were once more in motion, while, to Bart's great surprise, though he swept the plain in every direction, not an Indian was to be seen. "What does that mean, think you?" said the governor, smiling. "An ambush," replied Bart.
Judge Markham had been very much impressed by Bart's management of his case; perhaps to say that he was very much astonished, would better express its effect upon him.
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