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The average servant would have been vastly impressed with his air of self assurance; and would have admitted him to the house, without question. Mr. Dugan was an industrious young man; as well as ingenious. And he had a streak of quick-witted audacity which made him an ornament to his chosen profession. His method of work was simple.
I was on the job. Mr. Gordon has asked to see Nancy Nelson, and he's going to see her." "You young scoundrel!" exclaimed the man in gray. "I'll have you arrested for breaking and entering." "All right, sir," returned the youth, quite calmly, but walking swiftly to the window of the room. "See yonder, Mister? See that cop on the corner? Well, that's Mike Dugan. He's my next-door neighbor.
The moment there was silence the son of Black Jack went straight to Slim Dugan. "Slim," he said, just loud enough for everyone to hear, "a fellow isn't himself before noon. I've been thinking over that little trouble we had this morning, and I've made up my mind that if there were any fault it was mine for taking a joke too seriously.
"Not as you know of!" said Pat to himself, as he overheard the lad's plans, "it'll be many a day before Nannie Bates sits beside Mike Dugan, I'm thinking!" and he rushed past the couple like a madman, and hastened down the street, never stopping until he reached the attic room.
He shoved his revolver deliberately back into the holster. The four men had drawn together, still muttering with wonder. Luck may have had something to do with the success of that snapshot, but it was such a feat of marksmanship as would be remembered and talked about. "Dugan!" said Terry huskily. Slim lunged forward, but he was ill at ease. "Well, kid?"
He was busy lighting his firebrand, and his features seemed sharp and intent when the beams came out. Rather he was already weighing the profits of little Muztagh. He was an elephant-catcher by trade, in the employ of the great white Dugan Sahib, and the cow that was at this moment bringing a son into the world was his own property. If the baby should be of the Kumiria
Bond goes to his room, with puss sauntering after, and Mrs. Bates indulges herself in a cat-nap in her chair, while Pat is enjoying the moonlight walk to Mrs. Minturn's with Nannie. He is as happy as happy can be until they reach the house, and Mike Dugan confronts them with a gift for Nannie. It's all spoiled now!
Here, Dugan, you keep them covered. Shoot to kill if there's a move." Kennedy had begun feverishly setting up the part of the apparatus which he had brought after Whiting had set up his. "What can you do?" hissed Mrs. Labret. "You can't get word through. Orders have been issued that the telegraph operators are under no circumstances to give out news about this train.
The next day we tried it again, and out comes old man Dugan fetching in his hands the fairy viands. "'Kinder off yer feed, ain't ye, gents? he asks, fatherly and some sardonic. 'Thought I'd spell Mame a bit, seein' the work was light, and my rheumatiz can stand the strain. "So back me and Collier had to drop to the heavy grub again.
"Ya!" said Grevemeyer, nodding his head solemnly. "You took such a drink!" "Sure," said Toole, arranging his vest. "Grevemeyer saw me take th' drink an now I have no mimory of dongolas at all. If ye was t' show me a chromo of wan I wouldn't know was it a dongola or what. I'm ashamed of ye, Casey!" "If ye done it, Casey, ye hadn't have ought t' have done it," said Dugan reprovingly.
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