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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Well, how's the yarn getting on?" Captain Jack would ask. Then Condy would read the last chapter while the Captain paced the floor, frowning heavily, smoking cigars, listening to every word. Condy told the story in the first person, as if Billy Isham's partner were narrating scenes and events in which he himself had moved.
Then he threw down two high pairs. "No," he said; "I won't see you. What did you have? Let's see, just for the fun of it." Blix spread her cards on the table. "Not a blessed thing!" exclaimed Condy. "I might have known it. There's my last dollar gone, too. Lend me fifty cents, Blix." Blix shook her head. "Why, what a little niggard!" he exclaimed aggrievedly. "I'll pay them all back to you."
The next witness was Roddy Duncan, who deposed that on the night in question he was passing on a car and saw a man drag something heavy, like a sack. He then called out was that Condy Dalton? And the reply was, "It is, unfortunately!" upon which he wished him good-night. Next came the Prophet.
Take me away. I'm guilty I'm guilty!" Sarah was ministering to the Daltons at the very time when her father was informing against old Condy, and was present when the police took him away in custody. Shortly afterwards, when she had left the house, she was struck down by typhus.
"Go to Sir Condy then; I know nothing at all about the horses," said my lady; "why do you plague me with these things?" How it was settled I really forget, but to the best of my remembrance, the boy was sent down to my son Jason's to borrow candles for the night.
Was Blix to go away, leave him, perhaps for all time, and not know how much he cared? Would he speak before she went? Condy did not know. It was a question that circumstances would help him to decide. He would not speak, so he resolved, unless he was sure that she cared herself; and if she did, she herself would give him a cue, a hint whereon to speak.
"What a delicious supper one has there!" she said. "Can't say I like Mexican cooking myself," answered K. D. B., forgetting that they dined there every Monday night. "Plain United States is good enough for me." Suddenly Captain Jack turned abruptly to Condy, exclaiming: "Oh, you was the chap that called the picture of that schooner a barkentine."
She finished with a great flourish and gazed at him in triumph, only to find him pretending a profound slumber. "O o o!" she remarked between her teeth, "I just hate you, Condy Rivers." "There are others," he returned airily. "Talk about slang." "NOW what will we do?" he cried. "Let's DO something. Suppose we break something just for fun."
Sir Condy, as I have good reason to know, spoke well of you when Jason spoke very indifferently of you, Judy. 'No matter, says Judy; 'it's often men speak the contrary just to what they think of us.
Here let me pause for breath in my story, for though I had a great regard for every member of the family, yet without compare Sir Conolly, commonly called, for short, amongst his friends, Sir Condy Rackrent, was ever my great favourite, and, indeed, the most universally beloved man I had ever seen or heard of, not excepting his great ancestor Sir Patrick, to whose memory he, amongst other instances of generosity, erected a handsome marble stone in the church of Castle Rackrent, setting forth in large letters his age, birth, parentage, and many other virtues, concluding with the compliment so justly due, that "Sir Patrick Rackrent lived and died a monument of old Irish hospitality."
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