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It was evident from the way he held his club that he meant not to desert his post and that he believed his late assailant was returning. At sight of Gus, the colored man's relief showed in his drawn face. "Mist' Gus! It's you, honey! My Lawd! Ah done been shot! By the ghos', Mist' Gus, whut ain't nothin' no mo'n dat low-down, no 'count nephew o' ol' Mist' Hooper's.
The dervishes took matters very calmly; the desire to play for Biffen's was not strong enough to counterbalance the natural shrinking from a header into the duckweed and a run home in wet clothes. Singh Ram had a final try at the door, and then murmured so Gus said "Kismet," and relit his half-smoked cigar.
Mr. Hooper evidently saw the sense in this last remark; he stood blinking his eyes at Bill and Gus and pondering. The slim youth plucked at his sleeve and said something in a low voice. Gus suddenly remembered the fellow. The youth had come into the town a week or two before. He had, without cause, deliberately kicked old Mrs.
Gus Coulter got in also, but when he saw that Reff Ritter and Nick Paxton had been left, he scrambled out again, and his place was taken by Fred Century, another student. "Hello, Peleg, old sport!" cried Pepper, gaily, to the driver of the turnout. "How have you been for the past fifty years?" "Oh, I'm very well, thank you," responded Peleg Snuggers.
"So now I'll deliver my ultimatum: I'm going to keep the Valkyrie and not give you two as much as one little piece of her. Yes, sir! I'm going to send a representative to Papeete and match you and that Australian chap for your shoe-strings. Gus, you know me! If I ever go after a thing and don't get it, the man that takes it away from me will know he's been in a fight."
It was quite the proper thing for those "keeping company" together to sit out the long night hours beside the dead, and too often a keg of liquor was tapped, over which hilarity reigned to a ghastly degree. There was no danger of that in this case, though. Neither Gus, nor Dan, was of the drinking set, and Lucy had a horror of the stuff, so would not have it in the house.
A very large company of Christian people are fond of Lord Welter, Charles Ravenshoe, Flora and Gus, Lady Ascot, the boy who played fives with a brass button, and a dozen others of Henry Kingsley's men, women, and children, whom we have laughed with often, and very nearly cried with.
"He certainly has accomplished a great deal," the usually reticent Gus offered. "And yet he seems to be very modest about it," was Cora's contribution. "Of course, he is; every man who does really big things is never conceited," declared Bill. "Oh, I don't know. How about Napoleon?" queried Dot. "Napoleon? All he ever did was to get up a big army and kill people and grab a government.
"Why, you see, sir, some of the cadets in this school are not good friends with me and Major Ruddy, and maybe they thought they would play a trick on us by taking his watch and chain and my scarfpin." "Humph! a mighty poor trick! Who are those cadets?" "I don't want to accuse them, Captain Putnam." "I understand. But who are the cadets?" "Reff Ritter and Gus Coulter." "Oh, yes, I remember now.
The indefatigable lawyer pursued his attack after dinner, and was supported by Gus and by my wife too; who certainly was disinterested in the matter more than disinterested, for she would have given a great deal to be spared my aunt's company. But she said she saw the force of Mr. Smithers's arguments, and I admitted their justice with a sigh.
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