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Updated: May 17, 2025
"In dat case Ah gwine lay yo' down on de groun' to fin' yo' breff." Sambo's idea of laying Tom down was to give him a violent twist that brought the lad flat on the ground at his captor's feet. Then the negro sat on his captive to make sure that the latter did not escape. "Take yo' time -ah got plenty," grimaced the black man. Slowly the beaten-out breath came back to Tom Reade.
Twelve long years, in the dreams of midnight, I have wandered on its shores, and its coves and bays have appeared to me with the white swan with snowy sail and air of pride floating upon its mirror waves; but there is a bitter mingled with the sweet; in those dreams I see my mother pale in death, slain by my captor's hands, and oh, my father, who was absent from his home, where is he?
Placed in the Boss's great arms, he lifted his snout straight up in the air and emitted one shrill squeal; but the sight of Ananias-and-Sapphira, perched coolly beneath his captor's ear, in a measure reassured him, and he made no further protest.
He looked pitifully in his captor's face, the smile not yet faded from his, only to receive a box on the other ear, which, though a contrary and similar both at once, was not a cure, and the water gathered in his eyes.
I heard a dull, droning hum fill the room, and, over it, Strange's penetrating voice. "When I am finished, Dale, I shall probably kill you. I brought you here merely to frighten you, but I believe I have told you too much." With that new horror upon me, I saw my captor's lips move slowly.... And then, from the shadows at the other end of the small room, came a low, unemotional voice.
A tall man moved apart from the others, and held up his hand to call his captor's attention to what he was about to say. "Let me ask you a few questions!" he cried. "You pretend to be a fair-minded man." "How absurd. How could a man of my position be fair-minded toward you? You might as well speak of a Spaniard being fair-minded toward a piece of steak."
The fellow got away from his captor's grip, and scrambled to his boat in the dark; but Broadbent was laid up for two Sundays afterwards, and when he came abroad again had the evident remains of a black eye and a new collar to his coat.
As it hovered above the chipmunk, the latter by a quick, dexterous movement sprang or reached up and caught it, and in less than one half-minute its fanlike wings were opening out in front of the captor's mouth and its body was being eagerly devoured. This same chipmunk, I think it is, has his den under the barn near me.
It seemed hours before Tim turned round, and now his face was quiet, if set and determined. He walked slowly over, and stood looking at his victim for some time without speaking. The other's eyes dropped, and a greyness stole over his features. This steely calm was even more frightening than the ferocity which had previously been in his captor's face. At length the tense silence was broken.
Cyril gave a sudden start at the conjunction of names, which naturally increased his captor's suspicions. "But there IS a mistake, though," he said angrily, "even on your own showing. You've got the wrong man. It's not I that am wanted. My name's Cyril Waring, and Guy is my brother's. Though Guy can't have murdered Mr. Nevitt, either, if it comes to that; they were most intimate friends.
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