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Updated: May 26, 2025
If I hear a shot I'll come to you, and you do the same by me." "I say," said Hughie, "where does this track of mine come out? Is it below the Deepole there, or is it on the other side of the clearing?" "Why, don't you know?" said Don. "This runs right up to the back of the Fisher's berry patch, and through the sugar-bush to your own clearing. I'll go with you if you like."
He hoped Hughie wouldn't hear him harnessing Nellie, and shoot at the barn. The possibility sent him to the kitchen stairway. It wound upward in an old-fashioned twist to the room above. "Hughie!" he called in a low voice. "Hughie!" There was a noise of many creaks overhead. "I'm going to hitch up Nellie and drive over to Dr. Cole's farm. I I feel sure he buried the money!"
"Porridge and pancakes," said Jessie, the minister's "girl," who not only ruled in the kitchen, but using the kitchen as a base, controlled the interior economy of the manse. "Oh, goody!" yelled Hughie; "just what I like." And from the plates of porridge and the piles of pancakes that vanished from his plate no one could doubt his word.
But the bush roads and paths, summer and winter, were filled with things of wonder and of beauty, and this particular winter road of the Finch's was best of all to Hughie, for it was quite new to him, and besides, it led right through the mysterious, big pine swamp and over the butternut ridge, beyond which lay the Finch's farm.
When he turned to her, he saw that she was swallowing hard at the lump that was choking her. "It's on account of me that they act so, Hughie! You stay if you want to; I'm going." "Stay here?" he cried in boyish passion. "You're the only lady in the room so far as I can see! What would I stay for?"
Once more Hughie argued with himself. To be free from Foxy's hateful tyranny, and to be clear again with his mother for that he would be willing to suffer almost anything. But to take money out of that drawer was awfully like stealing. Of course he would pay it back, and after all it would only be borrowing. Besides, it would enable him to repay what he owed to his mother and to Foxy.
Judd Jason got the heaviest shot, but they said he couldn't exist a minute if it wasn't for the 'respectable' crowd capitalists, financiers, millionaires and their legal tools. Fact is, they spoke a good deal of truth, first and last, in a fool kind of way." "Truth!" I exclaimed irritatedly. Ralph laughed. He was evidently enjoying himself. "Is any of it news to you, Hughie, old boy?"
Fido, on the other hand, who loved to roam the woods in an aimless hunt for any and every wild thing that might cross his nose, but who never had seriously hunted anything in particular, trotted good-naturedly behind Hughie with rather a bored expression on his face. The trail, which had led them steadily north, all at once turned west and away from the swamp.
And, much as I shall repeat it, he told me this tale, pausing now and again to be corroborated by the woman in the corner. The history, my dear reader, is accurate enough for Boutigo's van. There lived a young man in Tregarrick in the time of the French War. His name was Dan'l Best, and he had an only brother Hughie, just three years younger than himself.
And Foxy, big and tall as he was, glanced at Hughie's face, and saying not a word, turned and fled to the front of the school where the other boys were. Hughie followed slowly, his heart still swelling with furious rage, and full of an eager desire to be at Foxy's smiling, fat face.
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