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Updated: June 8, 2025
Daddles put it, was made of wood. There were a few shops, but as most of them sold ships' supplies, we did not go in any of them. A pleasant smell of tar came from each door. Presently we reached a square or market place. Here were more shops, a butcher's, a grocery, and one that announced "Ice Cream."
"Now," said the constable, "we'll make short work of you. Names?" He really seemed to be less indignant with us, than with the banjo-player. Burglary was a smaller offence in his eyes than "disturbin' the peace," with a banjo. He soon had the names of Edward Mason, James Rogers Toppan, and Samuel Edwards added to his list. "Name?" he snapped to Mr. Daddles. "Richard Hendricks."
Then Ed Mason asked: "Is that all?" "Isn't that enough?" inquired Mr. Daddles, "isn't that sad enough, just as it is?" "It's sad enough," said Captain Bannister, "it's sad enough, all right. Once or twice I thought I'd bust right out cryin'." And the Captain chuckled a little, choked, and wheezed.
Daddles, "I've brought some, all the change we'll need." We went through the village and crossed the causeway. It was only a short walk to the end of the car line. Here was standing an old horse-car. The car was old, the horse was old, and the man who drove the horse was older still. He was sitting by the side of the road, and he eyed us suspiciously as we came up.
Then Ducky- daddles waddled down, and "Hrumph," snapped Foxy-woxy, and Ducky- daddles' head was off and Ducky-daddles was thrown alongside Turkey- lurkey and Goosey-poosey. Then Cocky-locky strutted down into the cave and he hadn't gone far when "Snap, Hrumph!" went Foxy-woxy and Cocky- locky was thrown alongside of Turkey-lurkey, Goosey-poosey and Ducky- daddles.
There was a window at the rear of the building, and unlike the window in the corridor below, it was not barred. Mr. Daddles and I looked out. There were no lights to be seen, and no people about. We raised the window very cautiously, an inch at a time. "Country police have their disadvantages," whispered Mr.
Daddles, with an agonized expression; "you must say 'Ay, ay, heave ahead, and you must GROWL it." We all tried to growl: "Ay, ay, heave ahead," but we didn't make much of a success of it. "That's fair," said Mr. Daddles, "only fair. You need lots of practice. We ought to have rehearsed this before we started. It's embarrassing to do it here, with the eyes of the world upon us, so to speak.
His face was grim as it might have been that time he was chased by pirates in the China Sea and he had a double-barreled shot-gun in his hand. When he saw me his mouth opened, and he stared helplessly. I caught sight of Mr. Daddles standing near the Captain, Sprague at the wheel, and Jimmy Toppan and some others busy with the sails.
The long-drawn, sawing sound, and then the "yop, yop, yop" so loud that it nearly made us fall over backwards in surprise. There was no possible doubt from what place it came. It was from the room nearest the tall clock. Mr. Daddles instantly blew out the candle, and then we all stepped very carefully to the threshold, and looked in.
"Adzooks!" exclaimed the bailiff "sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw Bank, is not going to show white feather? Ah, this comes of living so long with kilts and bonnets men forget the use of their daddles." "I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have not lost the use of mine," said Wakefield and then went on.
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