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Updated: May 1, 2025
True to his resolve, Langdon utterly refused to share his confidences with Jakey Faust. "We've tried the horses," he said, "and the Dutchman won, but Crane knows more about the whole business than I do. You go to him, Jake, or wait till he sends for you, an' you'll find out all about it. My game's to run straight with one man, anyway, an' I'm goin' to do it." That was all Faust could learn.
The bigger of the two policemen prodded the other in the ribs with his night-stick. "That's on us, Jakey. He'll have been gone hours ago. Let's be drilling. 'Tis a fine mind ye have, Mr. Blount, to be thinking of thim back stairs right off the bat." And the pair went down in the elevator with Blount, chuckling to themselves at their own discomfiture.
A match was struck and a figure stooped for the candle that had been dashed out by the foot of Fat Jakey Pooley. A table shielded the figure from Racey. Then the figure straightened and set the flaring match to the candle end. And the face that bent above the light was the face of one he knew. "Molly!" he whispered, and slipped from his ambush.
"It will be hard on Howard," he thought, "but Amy ought to have her rights, and, Eloise! And she shall!" he added, as he retraced his steps to the Crompton House. Chancing to be alone with her, he told her in part what he had heard from the rector, keeping back everything pertaining to the poverty of the surroundings, and speaking mostly of Jakey and Mandy Ann, whom Amy might remember.
Jake who got her breath first and swooped down on her little man with wild cries of "Oh, Jake! My own Jakey at last!" And in another second his head is all tangled up with the pearl ropes. Next Andres Zosco comes to. "What is it, a holdup act?" he asks. "Ellery, what you doing with that knife? What's it all about, somebody?" That seems to be my cue, so I steps to the front. "Sorry, Mr.
"That one weighed about two hundred and fifty," was all Captain Dan said. R. C. remarked facetiously, evidently to cheer me, "Jakey, you picks de shots out of that plue jay an' we makes ready for anudder one!" "Say, do you imagine you can make me laugh!" I asked, in tragic scorn. "Well, if you could have seen yourself when that tuna struck you'd have laughed," replied he.
As mother Ford climbed into the big wagon, she said to Sammy, "Hit's an awful lonely ol' trip fer you, child; an' you must start right away, so's t' be sure t' get there 'fore hit gets plumb dark," while Mr. Ford added, as he started the team, "Your pony's ready saddled, an' if you'll hurry along, you can jest 'bout make hit. Don't get catched on Jakey in a big rain whatever you do."
The teachers don't like them much." "Oh, our teacher does," said Dot, eagerly. "There's Jacob Bloomer. You know his father is the German baker on Meadow Street. Our teacher used to like him a lot." "And what's the matter with Jakey now?" asked Agnes. "Is he in her bad books?" "I don't know would you call it 'bad books," Dot said. "But he doesn't bring the teacher a pretzel any more."
"How funny he talks," whispered Grace to Lulu; "I can hardly understand him." "It's because he's Dutch," returned Lulu, in the same low tone. "But I can tell almost all he says. His son's name must be Jakey; the short for Jacob." "What is your name?" asked Max. "Hencle Shon Hencle. I dinks you all pees come to see Miss Stanhope pe von huntred years olt; ishn't you?" "Yes," said Rosie.
"Shut up!" hissed the kneeling man, and turned his face for an instant toward Fat Jakey, so that the light shone upon his features. It was Jack Harpe. "What's biting your ear?" Fat Jakey asked, good-naturedly. "I've told you more'n once to let what's past alone," grumbled Jack Harpe. "Hell, there's nobody around." "Nemmine whether they is or not. You get out of the habit."
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