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Updated: June 15, 2025
None the less, his words appeared to have kindled into new flame the burnt-out fires of Opdyke's professional ambition. For a minute or two, he lay quite silent, while two scarlet patches glowed upon his cheeks, and while the eyes above them seemed to fix themselves on distant vistas far beyond the limits of Dolph's sight.
Neither do I know how long it takes to get one's self into commission as a healer. Doesn't Brenton ever say anything about her?" "Not to me. Of course, it's not a subject where I like to be asking questions; and I suppose, for the same reason, he hates to open it up, himself." "Naturally." Dolph's tone was dry. "Reed, who killed that baby?" Opdyke raised his brows.
By stooping a little she could keep him in view, for he had settled himself on the after-deck, and was playing with 'Dolph or, rather, was feeling 'Dolph's ears and paws in a wondering fashion, as one to whom even a dog was something new and marvellous; and 'Dolph, stretched on his side in the sunshine, was undergoing the inspection with great complaisance.
And you've a laboratory and a staff of chemists under your very elbow. Make your people come to you, instead of your going to them. Your reputation is all made by now. Sit back and get the working good out of it, not chuck it away as if it wasn't worth an uninitialled Lincoln cent." Nothing more nonchalant and unconcerned than Dolph's drawling utterance could have been imagined.
Dolph's going was only just in time to prevent his meeting Olive who came around the curve of the street, just as he was leaving the Opdyke grounds. He waved his hat to her from afar, and she answered his greeting; but neither of them changed the direction of his steps.
Brittler's hand shot into his pocket as if for a revolver. "Stop there, Cap!" warned Dolph's voice. "No gun-play! 'Tisn't necessary. We can handle 'em." He flung himself suddenly on Spurling; another man leaped upon Lane. Though taken completely by surprise and almost hurled backward, Jim quickly recovered his balance. A sledge-hammer blow from Dolph's fist grazed his jaw as he sprang aside.
He was searching along the cliffs, searching for a cave, and very likely for gulls' eggs on the way. . . . What easier than to slip and break his neck? She listened listened. But the sound of 'Dolph's barking had long ago died away. . . . Oh, if he were dead, and she must search the Island alone for him! Poor child! for the moment her nerve deserted her.
Dolph's eye followed with fearful intensity; and he saw at a glance that he was in the vicinity of a nest of adders, that lay knotted, and writhing, and hissing in the chasm. He hastened with all speed to escape from so frightful a neighbourhood. His imagination was full of this new horror; he saw an adder in every curling vine, and heard the tail of a rattlesnake in every dry leaf that rustled.
Beelzebub, as the Turner mother had christened the mischievous brute, had been placed in the wrong stall and Beelzebub was making for freedom. He gave another triumphant baa as he swept between Dolph's legs and through the gate, and, with an answering chorus, the silly sheep sprang to their feet and followed. A sheep hates water, but not more than he loves a leader, and Beelzebub feared nothing.
No one was more struck with Dolph's increasing merit, than his old master the doctor; and so forgiving was Dolph, that he actually employed the doctor as his family physician, only taking care that his prescriptions should be always thrown out of the window.
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