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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Nobody hain't got no license," retorted the younger man in the quiet of cold anger, "ter tell Sally nothin' thet'll fret her." "She air bound ter know, hit all pretty soon. Them dawgs " "Didn't I tell ye ter shet up?" Samson clenched his fists, and took a step forward. "Ef ye opens yore mouth again, I'm a-goin' ter smash hit. Now, git!" Tamarack Spicer's face blackened, and his teeth showed.
"Well, I did think," said Beale, rubbing his nose thoughtfully, "of asking 'Melia to come down 'ere along o' the dawgs. Seems a pity to separate 'em somehow. It was Lord Arden put it into my 'ed.
'You oughter be married you ought, 'e says to me pleasant like, man to man; 'ain't there any young woman I could give a trifle to, to set you and her up in housekeeping? So then I casts about, and I thinks of 'Melia. As well 'er as anybody, and she's used to the dawgs. And the trifle's an hundred pounds. That's all. That's all!
"Samson, I've done asked ye all the questions I'm a-goin' ter ask ye," he said, "but them dawgs is makin' fer this house. They've jest been sighted a mile below." Samson nodded. "Now" Spicer South's face hardened "I owns down thar ter the road. No man kin cross that fence withouten I choose ter give him leave.
"It's Sorensen an' Peabody," some one cried, "a-throwin' the whip into the dawgs an' headin' down river!" "Now, what the hell !" Shunk Wilson paused, with dropped jaw, and glared at Lucy. "I reckon you can explain, Mrs. Peabody." She tossed her head and compressed her lips, and Shunk Wilson's wrathful and suspicious gaze passed on and rested on Breck.
Now, for the first time, it seemed to Tom that the rain which had fallen during the past week was befriending him. The ground was too wet to hold a scent. If Murdock's "dawgs" were brought out to chase him, they would become hopelessly muddled and lost. Nevertheless, his step quickened. After he had walked another mile, the faster pace began to tell upon him and he lagged.
He and the Baronet's keeper were very close friends, their mutual taste for "dawgs" bringing them much together. On one day, Mr. James, the Colonel, and Horn, the keeper, went and shot pheasants, taking little Rawdon with them. On another most blissful morning, these four gentlemen partook of the amusement of rat-hunting in a barn, than which sport Rawdon as yet had never seen anything more noble.
"You're as snug as snug in here," said the landlord. "Not so dusty," said Beale, shining from soap; "'ave a look at my dawgs?" He succeeded in selling the landlord a pup for ten shillings and came back to Dickie sitting by the pleasant firelight. "It's all very smart," he said, "but don't you never feel the fidgets in your legs? I've kep' steady, and keep steady I will.
But only de likes of me an' you kin eat ice-cream an' poh down hot coffee, an' pickle 'em wid licker an' not git ourse'ves kilt ain' dat right, Marse John? Hawses an' dawgs an' cows an' sich, cyarn' put de stuff in dey stumicks dat we kin. It takes a suah-nuff man to do dat!" The old gentleman was not listening.
And you meets soldiers, and parties in red coats ridin' on horses, with spotted dawgs, and motors as run you down and take your 'ead off afore you know you're dead if you don't look alive. Adventures? I should think so!" "Ah!" said Dickie, and a full silence fell between them. "Tired?" asked Mr. Beale presently. "Just a tiddy bit, p'raps," said Dickie bravely, "but I can stick it."
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