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Sempill's powny, the same that fetched our kit." "Well, that's your job to-morrow. See, I'll write you a line to the station-master. And will you undertake to get it some way into the House?" "There's just the one road open by the rocks. It'll have to be done. It CAN be done." "And I've another job. I'm writing this telegram to a friend in Glasgow who will put a spoke in Mr. Loudon's wheel.
Uncle Kit said, "Why don't you throw the stuff on the ground? If you don't want it yourselves, do not waste it by throwing it in the creek. Someone else may want it." One of them said, "I had not thought of that," and they threw the flour and bacon and coffee and other small packages of food on the ground.
And if while we are working at it you choose to try to find out more about them two ships, you can do it. "'And how can I do it? said I. "'If you can go down in a diver's suit you can do it, said he. 'I don't know whether you know anything about that business, but if you want to try, I have got a whole kit on board, air-pump, armor, and everything.
"Yes, that is if you wanted to after you'd see him buck. That horse is a rascal. And how he bucks! Even I have to hold on for dear life." The picnic lunch ended with iced orangeade and little tarts filled with raspberries. "Those must have been cooked for you, Kit, for we've never had any of them before," laughed Bet.
"The trouble with you's always been your despart hurry to get away." "This time we stay," replied the Frenchman with a smirk "all three, for ever, if need be." "We'll do our best to make you at ome, sir," grunted the Englishman; and turning to Kit "Slip below and tell Mr. Lanyon to begin to talk when we're locked fast and not afoor." Kit scampered below.
It was after such an experience as we have endeavored to paint by the simple tale of his life thus far, that Kit Carson longed, once more, to look upon and mingle with civilized people. For some time before he determined to visit the United States, this desire had taken possession of his mind and had been growing stronger.
Each day, going up and down, to and from the stranger's room, he had to pass through the office of one Sampson Brass, attorney; who, through the agency of Quilp, who was Sampson Brass's best client, was prejudiced against Kit, and pledged to the little dwarf to do him all the injury that he could, for venomous little Quilp had never forgiven the boy who had been connected with his ruined client, and had called him "the ugliest dwarf to be seen for a penny"; and he desired vengeance at any cost.
"Be sure and take a taxi, so you'll cover more ground," the Dean suggested when he left them, but Kit could not resist the beaming smile of one of the old-time darky coachmen, who sat drowsing on the seat of an open victoria outside the Capitol grounds. He was dressed in an old Colonial blue livery, with a tall silk hat, curving out at the top like those of the seventies.
Mr. and Mrs. Sands are not at home." "When will they be back?" asked Clo. "I don't know that," answered the cold voice of Anna Schultz. "It may be a long time." The girl had an instant of despair, but she was not yet beaten. As Kit pounded furiously on the door, Clo called up the jeweller where Ellen Blackburne was employed. Ellen had been in but gone out again; but, oh, she had just returned.
Your true lineman has a daredevil way with the women, as have all men whose calling is a hazardous one. Chet was a crack workman. He could shinny up a pole, strap his emergency belt, open his tool kit, wield his pliers with expert deftness, and climb down again in record time.
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