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Updated: May 5, 2025
"Now, dear Walter, you were saying, I think, when we were discussing the raffle, that we cannot always be doing just what is right, and that Gregson and Saunders would make great fun of you if you were to refuse to put down your name because Amos thinks it wrong to raffle. Does not that young American's case show very plainly that we ought to aim at always doing right?
Philip broke the silence. "Now you understand." "It is impossible!" gasped Gregson. "I cannot believe this! It it might have happened a thousand two thousand years ago but not now. My God, man!" he cried, more excitedly. "You do not mean to tell me that you believe this will be done?" "Yes," replied Philip. "It is impossible!" exclaimed Gregson again, crushing the letter in his hand.
And, if not, was it possible that in this remote corner of the earth there was another woman who resembled her so closely? Philip took a step toward Gregson, half determined to awaken him. And yet, on second thought, he knew that Gregson could not explain.
Gregson," said my father; "but you haven't touched it quite. It was a friend of yours that spoke to my boy and made him very unhappy about what he had done, telling him over and over again what a shame it was, and how wicked of him. Do you know what friend it was?" "Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't. I can guess." "I fear you don't guess quite correctly.
Amos and his aunt replied by loving smiles; Julia kept her eyes fixed on some work she had taken up. "My next announcement," continued Walter, "is of equal interest and importance. The great firm of Huntingdon, Gregson, and Saunders has dissolved partnership. What do you say to that?"
Gregson, but to say I bring my sons up to that kind of wickedness, is to lay on me more than my share, a good deal. Come here, Ranald." I obeyed with bowed head and shame-stricken heart, for I saw what wrong I had done my father, and that although few would be so unjust to him as this old woman, many would yet blame the best man in the world for the wrongs of his children.
At length, cheered on by the sympathising shouts of the impatient spectators, they placed themselves abreast, stripped of all superfluous garments, and at a signal from Gregson the race began. Walter commenced warily, husbanding his strength, and not quickening his speed till he had reached the middle of the course; the one of the remaining two did much the same.
"Gregson told me to be sure and have the camp guarded at night, Jackpine. What do you think about it?" The Indian turned with a queer chuckles his lathery face wrinkled in a grin. "Gregson heem ver' much 'fraid," he replied. "No bad man here all down there and in camp. We kep' watch evr' night. Heem 'fraid I guess so, mebby." "Afraid of what?"
Seizing poor Gregson, who lay on the grass even more hurt than Bouldon, Blackall dragged him along, and placed him near his friend, and then flourishing his formidable colt, was about to make it descend first on the back of one and then on that of the other of his victims, when a loud shout arrested his arm, and, looking up, he saw from both ends of the glade a strong body of boys, in military order, advancing towards him.
"With your fist," cried Gregson, joyously. "Gad, but that was a mighty blow! I can see that knife now. I was just beginning my paternoster when chug! and down he went! And he deserved it. I said nothing wrong. In my very best Spanish I asked her if she would sit for me, and why the devil did he take that as an insult? And she was beautiful." "Of course," agreed Whittemore.
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