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Updated: May 23, 2025
"To begin with, I'm going to shut up shop in just five minutes; and if you don't want to show yourself on the street looking like a difference of opinion between a bull-calf and a fountain pen " "Gotcha," interrupted George, rising and putting away handkerchief and mirror. "I'll drown myself, if you say so. Anythin's better'n letting you talk me to death." "One thing more."
"Sir," Murphy answered, so softly and carelessly that it irritated the mate to further bullyragging. "Well, Murphy's too long," he announced. "Nosey'll do you aboard this craft. Got that?" "I gotcha . . . sir," came the reply, insolent in its very softness and unconcern. "Nosey Murphy goes . . . sir."
"Twist . . . sir," he answered, precisely in the same manner as the others. "Too long," the mate sneered. "The Kid'll do you. Got that?" "I gotcha . . . sir. Kid Twist'll do me . . . sir." "Kid'll do!" "Kid . . . sir." And the three laughed their silent, mirthless laugh. By this time Mr. Pike was beside himself with a rage that could find no excuse for action.
Schultz had this to say to Drummond and the girl: "Jo says she'll be about pretty soon now, and she'll come over with us next trip and see you herself. Says for you not to do anything rash, or anything like that. What'll I tell her?" "Tell her to hurry up!" Drummond said angrily. "Gotcha!" drawled Heine, and betook himself to camp. Ten days later Mr.
He passes out da word dat dere's to be nuttin' doin' tonight, tomorrow night or until he says 'go." "When did he give these orders, before or after Gibson came back?" asked Brennan. "After," replied Murphy. "And there'll be nuthin' doin', see?" "All right, Murphy. Keep on the lookout and drop in tomorrow and we'll fix you up for this." "I gotcha," said Murphy.
It was the poise of the man, of the three of them, the cool poise that impressed me. "When you address any officer on this ship you'll say 'sir," Mr. Pike explained, his voice as harsh as his face was forbidding. "Did you get that?" "Yes . . . sir," Murphy drawled with deliberate slowness. "I gotcha." "Sir!" Mr. Pike roared.
"Gotcha," said Heine, and lounged away, rolling a brown paper cigarette. The outfit started back again early next morning; and eight days later it returned, still minus its two important figures. Again Heine Schultz rested his bony elbows on the carpeted counter of the shooting gallery, and spoke to Lucy, who this time was alone.
"Not if you'll keep on stayin' away from the booze, kid," said Professor Cassidy, "an' let me handle you." "I gotcha Steve," said Billy; "go to it; but first, stake me to a feed. The front side of my stomach's wrapped around my back bone." FOR three months Billy met has-beens, and third- and fourth-rate fighters from New York and its environs.
"I was up here with Larry Hilmore and the Goose Island Kid a year or so ago my name's Byrne," exclaimed Billy. "Sure," said the professor; "I gotcha now. You're de guy 'at Larry was a tellin' me about. He said you'd be a great heavy if you'd leave de booze alone." Billy smiled and nodded. "You don't look much like a booze fighter now," remarked Cassidy. "And I ain't" said the mucker.
"You had better take another, I blinked my eyes that time," said Gibson. "Gotcha before you blinked," the photographer explained. "Now one standing if you please, Mr. Gibson. Bend over a little. That's it, clinch your fist and raise it up as though you were going to hit someone. That's it. Fine, thank you." The flashlight boomed again, filling the room with smoke.
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