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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I think I have seen that person, when, by some rare chance, I happened to be in the coffee-room at Fairport; a tall, beetle-browed, awkward-built man, who entered upon scientific subjects, as it appeared to my ignorance at least, with more assurance than knowledge was very arbitrary in laying down and asserting his opinions, and mixed the terms of science with a strange jargon of mysticism.
"It was," I nodded: "and then he was a very wonderful man in other ways. You see, he was always getting himself shot through the head, or run through the body, but it never hurt Beetle-browed Ben not a bit of it." "An' did he 'swing people at the yard-arm with a bitter smile'?" "Lots of 'em!" I answered. "An' make them 'walk the plank with a horrid laugh'?" "By the hundred!"
Directly the door of his private room was discreetly opened, admitting a square-jawed, beetle-browed man, heavy and ugly a coarse type, yet not without distinction. The two men did not shake hands. Mr. Christopher Shayne bowed blandly, deferentially, yet not servilely, and again he cleared his throat.
Broad-shouldered, beetle-browed, brutal and lazy was Bill Hennard, son of a prosperous settler. He had inherited a fine farm, but he was as lazy as he was strong, and had soon run through his property and followed the usual course from laziness to crime. Bill had seen the inside of more than one jail.
He was the oldest man in the tribe, beetle-browed, prognathous, lank-armed; he had a beard and his cheeks were hairy, and his chest and arms were black with thick hair. And by virtue both of his strength and cunning he was master of the tribe, and his share was always the most and the best. Eudena had hidden herself among the alders, because she was afraid of Uya.
The other was a middle-sized, powerful fellow, clean shaven and beetle-browed, and dressed in shabby, ill-fitting garments. It was hard to tell what his rank in life might be. He stared once again at Babette, and then handed his glass to the host to be re-filled. The pedlar was the first to break the silence.
One of them was finishing a drinking-glass, rolling the pontil on the arms of the working-stool; another, a beetle-browed fellow, swung his long blow-pipe with its lump of glowing glass in a full circle, high in air and almost to touch the ground; another was at a 'bocca' in the low glare; all were busy, and the air was very hot and close. The men looked grim and ill-tempered.
Shaggy, beetle-browed and unshaven, his looks were anything but pleasing to those who did not fully know him. Tom Hansell was much the same kind of man, except that he lacked the book education of his companion and leader. He had strong impulses, and was ready to go to an extreme length in whatever direction he started, but he always needed a guiding spirit, and that he found in Hugh O'Hara.
I didn't mind his going to dinners and minstrels, of course, but when they spoke of being out until after midnight, or to-morrow morning, and when one beetle-browed, vulgar-looking creature offered to lend him a 'tenner, I thought of the mortgage on the Noble ranch, and the trouble there would be if Edgar should get into debt, and I felt I must do something to stop him, especially as he said himself that everything depended on his next examinations."
Tom Tozer was a bull-necked, beetle-browed fellow, the expression of whose face was eloquent with acknowledged roguery. "I am a rogue," it seemed to say. "I know it; all the world knows it: but you're another. All the world don't know that, but I do. Men are all rogues, pretty nigh. Some are soft rogues, and some are 'cute rogues. I am a 'cute one; so mind your eye."
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