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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Yes," said Mr Watkins, "I thought it rather a good notion when it occurred to me. I expect to begin to-morrow night." "What! You don't mean to paint in the open, by night?" "I do, though." "But how will you see your canvas?" "Have a bloomin' cop's " began Mr Watkins, rising too quickly to the question, and then realising this, bawled to Miss Durgan for another glass of beer.
Durgan had obeyed his orders promptly and precisely, and had succeeded in stopping Callahan at the street-crossing where Engineer Dixon had killed the farmer. Durgan climbed to the cab of the 1010, and the changed plan was explained in a dozen words. But now came the crux.
The sunlit green, and a match in progress, the ball has just snipped a stump askew, my ancient, leaning on a stout cabbage stick, and with the light overcoat that is sacred to umpires upon his arm. "Out, Billy Durgan," says he, and adds, ex cathedrâ, "and one you ought to ha' hit for four."
"Well, we know who he is now. Somebody tipped off the officers about the run we was goin' to make to-night; and since it wasn't this kid, it must-a been one of his bunch. Shall we heave him into the stream, Joe, or leave him here?" "Not on your life!" Durgan replied promptly.
Mole gave Hugh a prod in the shoulder with the point of a knife and Durgan swore volubly. "None o' that thar, Harry!" he warned. "Don't hurt the kid. If you do, we'll " "Aw, shut up!" retorted the other, and they hurried on. By great effort Hugh said nothing, asked no questions, did not even answer the wolf-call.
It would have been better for Billy had he remained in hiding; but he was eager to know how Durgan and his confederates would manage to run their cargo on board the Esperanza, having no motor boat to use; and he was even more eager to find out what had become of Hugh.
He blinked at Hugh, much as a sleepy owl blinks at a hunter who has discovered its nest. Then a thought crossed his mind: "O-ho! you're one o' the crowd campin' o'er yonder!" "Right you are, Mr. Durgan!" declared Hugh with calm politeness. "But why I've been captured and brought here, I don't quite see.
For instance, I heard my aunt admit that one of the Stuart Durgan ladies did look a bit "balmy on the crumpet"; she described the knights of the age of chivalry as "korvorting about on the off-chance of a dragon"; she explained she was "always old mucking about the garden," and instead of offering me a Garibaldi biscuit, she asked me with that faint lisp of hers, to "have some squashed flies, George."
Nevertheless, he was glad to be active and thankful that he had been unbound before his captors went away, leaving him a prisoner in the shanty until they were ready to release him. Joe Durgan had even been considerate enough to leave a half loaf of bread and a glass of beer on the table; but Hugh declined these delicacies.
Patsy would have a story to tell, all right, if he could stop to put it on the wires. Durgan ought to have caught that blamed right-of-way man and chloroformed him." "I found him messing, as I 'phoned you. Anything come of it?" "Nothing fatal, I guess, since Patsy is still humping along. But Hawk's next biff was more to the purpose.
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