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"It was searching for her that brought about all this trouble, and I wonder have they found her yet." "Tavia Travers," repeated Miss Bell. "A girl who says she is Tavia Travers was seen going along the road with the supposed Mary Harriwell, and of course if she is helping her hide, she may be arrested. Is she a friend of yours?" "Yes," sighed Dorothy.
"That's a proper test." Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who fled in panic. "That settles it," was Brown's solemn pronouncement. "He won't eat it." "Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?" Harriwell turned cheerfully to Bertie. "It's all right, old man, the Commissioner will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged."
He was still wondering, when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag him indoors. "I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him over to see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it was broad daylight, and I never dreamed." Bertie was beginning to turn pale.
My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take them in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, Brown?" Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the rifles began to go off.
They knew he could be depended upon, while he was equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. "Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr.
"They got the other manager that way," McTavish vouchsafed. "And a dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?" Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding trousers and puttees entered.
"That's a proper test." Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who fled in panic. "That settles it," was Brown's solemn pronouncement. "He won't eat it." "Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?" Harriwell turned cheerfully to Bertie. "It's all right, old man, the Commissioner will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged."
He was still wondering, when a rifle exploded very near to him behind his back. At the same moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag him indoors. "I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him over to see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it was broad daylight, and I never dreamed." Bertie was beginning to turn pale.
All right!" he replied. "Yes, that's her!" "That's her!" repeated Dorothy. "That's me! What is this trick? Let me out of this carriage instantly, or I will call for help!" "If you do not keep quiet, I shall be obliged to restrain you," said the nurse. "Miss Harriwell, we are taking you back to the sanitarium. I am your new nurse." "Sanitarium! New nurse! Miss Harriwell!
Then she said very slowly: "I am Mary, but they call me Molly." "Mary what?" "Mary Harriwell." Tavia knew better than to ask more questions just then. She almost forgot their predicament in the joy of seeing the girl apparently sane. "I wonder if you can walk?" "I am going to try. Just give me your hand there, that's it," and the sufferer pulled herself up and stood beside Tavia.
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