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Updated: June 21, 2025
Smugg as you came along, Joe?" I asked. "Yes, sir. Gone toward Dill's farm, sir." "Ah, Dill's farm!" "Yes, sir." The chop-laden Joe passed on. I mended my pace, and soon found myself on the outskirts of Dill's premises. I had been there before; we had all been there before. Dill had a daughter. I saw her now in a sunbonnet and laced boots.
"I don't care: he's the one I wish she'd get married to." Herbert was astounded. "Noble Dill? Why, I heard mamma and Aunt Hattie and Uncle Joe talkin' about him yesterday." "What'd they say?" "Most of the time," said Herbert, "they just laughed.
For an instant longer the two men stood staring; and then both of them made a rush for the two boys; and, as they were almost instantly followed by Dill Conroyal, Thure's older brother, Rex Holt, Thure's cousin, and Frank Holt, Thure's uncle and the father of Rex Holt, you can imagine the excitement and confusion that reigned in that log house and how swiftly the questions flew back and forth for the next few minutes.
Dill, with just a hint of irascibility in his voice. "There is no joke unless you are forcing one upon me now. Mr. Brown made me a bona-fide offer, and I have made a small deposit to hold it until you came and I could consult you. We have three days left in which to decide for or against it. It is all perfectly straight, I assure you." Billy took time to consider this possibility.
My finding you this morning was a pure accident." "How'd you happen to do it?" interjected Dill Bruce. "I saw your smoke signs last night." "What!" Darwood snapped the word out like the crack of a whip. "I saw your smoke signs. At least I suppose they were yours. This morning I started out, as I frequently do, in search of game.
Billy, to make good his threat, jumped off the bar. In doing so he came down upon the toes of Jack Morgan, the hospitable soul who had insisted upon treating Mr. Dill and who had just come up to renew the argument. Jack Morgan was a man of uncertain temper and he also had toes exceedingly tender.
In that way he avoided discussing the Pilgrim, for Dill was not so dull that he failed to take the hint. The Shadow Darkens. The inquest resulted to the satisfaction of those who wished well to the Pilgrim, for it cleared him of all responsibility for the killing.
Oh, Where Have You Been, Charming Billy? Presently they were in the little room which Dill had kept for himself by the simple method of buying the shack that held it, and Billy was drinking something which Dill poured out for him and which steadied him wonderfully.
We may go so far as to allow that it initiated that habit of dilettantism which we find already exaggerated in the age lately illuminated for us by Professor Dill in his book on Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius, and far more exaggerated in the last age of Roman society, which the same author has depicted in his earlier work.
He rose to his feet with his napkin tucked into his collar and, carrying the dish of dill pickles with him, he moved over to Kotzen's table. "What's the matter, Hymie?" Abe asked. "You ain't sick, are you?" "That depends what you call it sick, Abe," Hymie replied. "I don't got to see no doctor exactly, Abe, if that's what you mean.
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