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Updated: June 8, 2025
When it was over he snapped an elastic round his notebook, returned it to his pocket, and laid his hand on Dickie's thin, tense arm. "Come along with me, Dick," said Lorrimer. "You've won. I've been fighting you and my duty to my neighbor for a fortnight. Your waiter days are over. I've adopted you. I'm my brother's keeper all right. We'll both go hungry now and then probably, but what's the odds!
For an instant love alone dominated his heart. "Mascola escaped in the Fuor d'Italia." Dickie's words recalled Gregory to his purpose. The next instant he was pulling at the chain. "I'll take you around the point to the cutter," he called to her as he worked. "You'll be safe there until " "No." The girl's answer was spoken with a determination there was no gainsaying.
You will tell papa I did not cry, said Dickie, eagerly, but only half gratified by such girlish treatment as that agitated kiss of his grandfather, after being a little bit of a hero; but then Dickie's wondering eyes really beheld such another kiss bestowed over his head upon Leonard, and quite thought there were tears on grandpapa's cheeks.
Dickie's idea of what a good home ought to be was much the same as Frisky's: they both thought that the deserted nest of one of the big Crow family made as fine a house as any one could want. And they couldn't imagine that any food could possibly be better than nuts, berries and grain. To be sure, Dickie Deer Mouse liked his nuts to have thin shells.
Now if you have read a book called "The House of Arden" you will already know that Dickie's cousins were called Edred and Elfrida, and that their father, Lord Arden, had a beautiful castle by the sea, as well as a house in London, and that he and his wife were great favorites at the Court of King James the First.
"Then about the only way we could have beaten him," pursued Gregory, "would have been to have got there first and covered our own boats. Is that right?" "Yes. But that is not so easy as it sounds." "It is not so hard either," Gregory went on. "I have an idea that I think will work out all right." Dickie's eyes flashed. "Forget your ideas!" she snapped.
When Edred saw how his father tried his best to find out the truth about Dickie's birth, and how willing he was to give up what he had thought was his own, if it should prove to be not his, do you think he was not glad to know that he had done his duty, and rescued his cousin, and had not, by any meanness or any indecision, brought dishonor on the name of Arden?
Dickie's face again flamed in spite of himself. "It's a love poem. The feller couldn't forget. He couldn't keep himself from loving that-away because he loved so much the other way well, sir, you better read it for yourself. It's a mighty real sort of a poem if you were that sort of a feller, I mean."
One of the leveling public catastrophes came to Dickie's aid not that he knew he was a dumb prayer for aid. He knew only that every day was harder to face than the last, that every night the stars up there through Sheila's skylight seemed to glimmer more dully with less inspiration on his fagged spirit.
The big man laughed, and as he laughed Dickie lunged with his sword the way his tutor had taught him and the little sword no tailor's ornament to a Court dress, but a piece of true steel went straight and true up into the heart of that big rebel. The man fell, wrenching the blade from Dickie's hand. A shout of fury went up from the enemy. A shout of pride and triumph from the Arden men.
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