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Durgan really was extraordinarily good extraordinarily good. You intend to give us a good deal of your time here, I hope." "I mean to do my duty by the Parish," said my uncle. "I'm sincerely glad to hear it sincerely. We've missed the house influence. An English village isn't complete People get out of hand. Life grows dull. The young people drift away to London."
This way, scouts!" and struggling desperately, he managed to slip from his captors' grasp. In another minute he had whirled around and was running as fast as he could put foot to the ground. To his surprise, Mole and Durgan did not chase him.
For Joe Durgan, Branks, Harry Mole, Max, the villainous half-breed, and others at the huts, were being reinforced by Bego's followers who had hurried up from the bonfire; and they were beating back the soldiers, whom they now outnumbered.
Two hundred yards up the shore towards Frenchman's Creek there's a boat made fast, and down off Durgan a ketch anchored. She's bound for Havre, and the skipper will weigh as soon as you're aboard. Mount and ride like a sensible fellow, and I'll walk into your kitchen and convince every man Jack that you have done well and wisely.
Loring?" asked M'Tosh, when Loring had shaken hands with them, not as subordinates. "Surely. My time is not very valuable, just at present. Come in, and I'll see if Mr. Kent has left me any cigars." "Humph!" said Durgan, when the ex-manager had gone into Kent's room to rummage for the smoke offering.
"The trouble hasn't waited for our bringing," said M'Tosh. "That is why we are here. Durgan has soured on his job, and I'm more than sick of mine. It's hell, Mr. Loring. I have been at it twenty years, and I never saw such crazy railroading in any one of them." "Bad management, you mean?" "Bad management at the top, and rotten demoralization at the bottom as a natural consequence.
"There's a guy named Durgan lives over yonder in a little clearing 'bout a hundred yards up from the mouth of the creek," said one of the men. "Lives there all year 'round alone, fishin' an' raisin' turtles fer market. Queer ol' cuss, kind-a looney, -but he's friendly to us and willin' to oblige us by showin' a light in his cabin winder when the coast is clear." "You theenk dat will be next "
But just before he took his train, Halkett had him in the sweat-box, jacking him up for not making his time. He came out red in the face, jumped on his engine, and yanked the Flyer down the yards forty miles an hour." "And what is your trouble, Durgan?" asked Loring. "Another side of the same thing.
Scott acted as spokesman, stating the case with admirable brevity and conciseness, and asking the same question as that propounded by the train-master, to wit, if there were any prospect of a return of the road to its former management. Loring spoke more hopefully to the committee than he had to Durgan and M'Tosh.
Behind him, evidently following, again sounded the wolf-call, giving him courage and renewed hope. Durgan turned to him angrily. "What made you jump when you heard that thar howl?" he demanded. "Nothing. Where -where are we going?" Hugh ventured to ask, at length, forgetting that he was not to utter a word of protest. "I'm dog-tired, and my knee aches -a sprain, I guess."
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