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Updated: June 10, 2025
He had got over his fright, and had recovered his temper. The respectful side of him was turned to me again. "Your master is with Mr. Toller?" "Yes, sir." What I felt, amply justified the lawyer in having exacted a promise from me to keep carefully out of the Cur's presence. "You might knock him on the head again, Mr. Roylake, and might hit a little too hard next time."
"I'm quite ready, Mr Rooney," said I to the boatswain, paying no attention to the cur's snobbish bravado; but I felt his sneer against my father's profession keenly, and had to bite my lip to prevent myself from replying to it.
Seeing that he was, he judged it best to find the book. Looking into the work-box, he said innocently: "I 'clare to gracious, Mass' Frank, if it hasn't slipped down yere. Dat's mi'ty cur's, dat is." "Pomp, sit down," said Frank. "I am going to talk to you seriously. What makes you tell so many lies?" "Dunno any better," replied Pomp, grinning. "Yes, you do, Pomp.
If both had been real, and this was the end of men's endeavour if this were death if one slipped out in this cur's way, the tail between the legs why not end it? He could sleep himself, he thought. Suppose he lay by this brother cur of his and slept? Somewhere out beyond this cold there were men by firelight kissing their wives. Poor chaps, they didn't know the end.
Finally a chorus of eager barking in a different tone from what has thus far been heard announces to experienced ears that the dogs have some game at bay. The hunters dispute as to what it is as they crash and stagger on through the gloom, each swearing he knows by his cur's voice what sort of an animal he has in view.
But it can't be helped, fer thar stands the worst criminal that ever came into this region. An' to think of him talkin' about murder an' justice, when he himself murdered his own pardner!" "It's a lie!" Curly denied with an oath. "What d'ye mean by making such a charge?" "It's no lie, Curly," and the prospector looked sternly into the cur's bloodshot eyes.
Washington could do to restrain Clapsaddle from booting his Reverence over the balustrade and down two runs of the stairs, the captain declaring he would do for every cur's son of the whelps. 'Diomedes, says I, waking up, 'what's this damnable racket on the landing? Is Mr. Richard home? For I had some notion it was you, sir, after an over-night brawl.
"I knew you when I laid eyes on you for the first time," said Donnegan. "You have the hands of a craftsman, but your eyes are put too close together. A coward's eyes a cur's face, Godwin. But you, George have you heard what he said?" No answer from George but a snarl. "It sounds logical what he said, eh, George?" Dead silence. "But," said Donnegan, "there are flaws in the plan.
"'I don't blame you so much, says Jack to him; 'it was the looking-glass that desaved me. That cur's nothing but a black leg! "'What looking-glass? you knave you! says dark-face, giving him a fresh haul. "'Why, the one I saw under the dog's oxther, replied Jack.
"Now tell me, fellow, what were you going to do with this?" inquired the man in a severe tone. "I sha'n't tell you," replied Vanslyperken. "Why that's the chap that I sees go in and out of the room where that old hell-fire witch lives, who curses all day long." "I thought as much," observed the man, who still held up the cur's tail.
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