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Updated: May 31, 2025
"I hope the new folks camp right close to here. We need good neighbors more than anything else." "But they may belong to Gage's crowd," Alf insisted. "Don't you believe it, lad. Dolph Gage hasn't money enough to finance a crowd like that." "It may be Dunlop's crowd," suggested Hazelton. "That's more likely," said Tom. "Well we'll be glad enough to see Dunlop back here with a outfit.
This was broadened and deepened and illustrated by the several stories of the "Money Diggers," of "Wolfert Webber" and "Kidd the Pirate," in "The Tales of a Traveller," and by "Dolph Heyliger" in "Bracebridge Hall."
I've talked to her, Opdyke; she's not the kind to evolve anything, certainly not a full-fledged case of " Olive interrupted. "There is some good in it, though," she persisted. "Where?" Opdyke asked her. "The complexion; it's better than any amount of massage. One never wrinkles, when one is convinced that nothing can go wrong." "What about measles?" Dolph demanded pertly.
His face was half thrown in shade by a broad hat, with a buck's-tail in it. His gray hair hung short in his neck. He wore a hunting-frock, with Indian leggings, and moccasons, and a tomahawk in the broad wampum belt round his waist. As Dolph caught a distinct view of his person and features, he was struck with something that reminded him of the old man of the haunted house.
"Oh, I'll look after 'im!" The child shook a forefinger at 'Dolph, forbidding him to follow her. The dog sank on his haunches, wagging a tail that swept the grasses in perplexed protest, and watched her as she retraced her way along the towpath. Tilda did not once look back. She was horribly frightened; but she had pledged her word now, and it was irredeemable.
The current was stronger than anyone guessed and the raft was being swept by an eddy straight for the point of the opposite shore where there was a sharp turn in the river. "Watch out thar," shouted old Joel, "you're goin to 'bow'!" Dolph and Rube were slashing the stern oar forward and back through the swift water, but straight the huge craft made for that deadly point.
"Isn't that his bark? Listen . . . away to the right." They stood still for a while. "Sounds like it," said the boy; "and yet not exactly like." "It's 'Dolph, and he's in some sort of trouble. That's not 'is usual bark." "We'd best see what it is, I suppose, and fetch him along." Arthur Miles struck aside from the line they had been following, and moved after the sound, not without reluctance.
Now, from all accounts, the wife was somewhat in abeyance; and the sudden reversal of Brenton's collar buttons had turned him from the picture of a priest to at least the semblance of a man. In regard to Brenton, Dolph Dennison saw no need to mince matters. His clear young eyes had made out the one loose thread that sagged and knotted across and across the texture of Brenton's mind.
The children watched the whole operation from shore, now and then lending their small weight to push open the long gate-beams. 'Dolph, too, watched from shore; suspiciously at first, afterwards with a studied air of boredom, which he relieved by affecting, whenever the heel of a stern-post squeaked in its quoin, to mistake it for a rat an excuse for aimless snuffling, whining and barking. And Mrs.
He could not comprehend at all, but she had switched him off the current of his deadly fear. "Now you just wait 'ere by the steps," she commanded, "an' 'Dolph'll wait by you an' see you come to no 'arm. Understand, 'Dolph? I'm goin' inside for a minute only a minute, mind; but if anybody touches Arthur Miles, you pin 'im!" 'Dolph looked up at his mistress, then at the boy.
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