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A green American lad'll be a fine pigeon for them to pluck. You may as well tell him, Ann; you know you came here to do it." "Yes, I did," she admitted. "I don't want you to seem not to know what people are up to and what they expect." That little note of involuntary defense was a dangerous thing for Tembarom. He drew nearer. "You don't want them to take me for a fool, Little Ann.
"Well," says Alan, "as ye please; that'll be the dearer." "The dearer?" cries Ebenezer. "Would ye fyle your hands wi' crime?" "Hoot!" said Alan, "they're baith crime, whatever! And the killing's easier, and quicker, and surer. Keeping the lad'll be a fashious* job, a fashious, kittle business." * Troublesome. "I'll have him keepit, though," returned my uncle.
But I'm thinkin' my lad'll be wantin' t' see how th' little maid is, an' see his mother an' mayhap be takin' th' cruise." "An Bob knew how lonesome we were how wonderful lonesome we were he'd be comin' at th' New Year sure. An' he'll be gettin' lonesome hisself. He must be gettin' dreadful lonesome away off in th' bush this long time! He'll sure be comin' at th' New Year!"
The white fingers passed in a slow, pitiful way over the dead, worn face. There was a heavy shadow in the quiet eyes. "Did hur know where they'll bury Hugh?" said Deborah in a shrill tone, catching her arm. This had been the question hanging on her lips all day. "In t' town-yard? Under t' mud and ash? T' lad'll smother, woman! He wur born in t' lane moor, where t' air is frick and strong.
"Come now come now. Don't 'ee take on an' fret so. The lad'll coom back to ye, never ye fear now.
He knew it. It had not counted for so much when he had been a boy scout with them; good scouts that they were, they had taken care of that end of it. They thought he didn't want to when in fact he didn't know how to. "Phwen I hurd ye wuz in the war," Pete said, "I says ter meself, I says, 'that there lad'll make a stand. I says it ter me ould woman.
The lad'll sit in the bow an' trim the boat. Pass the lantern t' Davy, zur, an' come aboard." My father continued to grumble his concern for the doctor's comfort; but he leaned over to pat my shoulder while Skipper Tommy pushed off: for he loved his little son, did my big father oh, ay, indeed, he did!
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