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Updated: May 29, 2025
One of them, evidently the leader, was talking volubly, but Conrad did not even appear to listen until they stood in the open before the door. "Now, what were you doing there?" "Lefty Werner and Heppel and me, we hear shots," explained a large, raw-boned foreigner with an ugly scar along the side of his jaw. "We come quick. Fear boss and young missus maybe need help."
With the peaceful smile of a child, therefore, Lefty Joe lay stretched at full length along the top of the car and made his choice of weapons. On the whole, his usual preference, day or night, was for a revolver. Give him a gat and Lefty was at home in any company. But he had reasons for transferring his alliance on this occasion.
"Dormouse," whispered the Poker. "I mean Dormouse," said the Bellows, correcting himself. "You see, I believe in everybody having a say in regard to everything. I always have everything I can put to a vote. Consequently, when Righty here came down and asked me to help blow the cloud over and I said that I wouldn't do it he called Lefty in, and we put it to a vote as to whether I'd have to or not.
"Look here," he said, "looks to me like a queer thing that you're on this train" "Does it" queried Lefty softly "Why?" "Because Donnegan is two cars back, asleep." "The devil you say!" The brakie broke into laughter "Don't kid yourself along," he warned. "Don't do it. It ain't wise with me." "What you mean?" "Come on, Lefty. Come clean. You better do a fade off this train." "Why, you fool "
"Yes, it must have been he." "Sure it was. What did you have against him?" "It was a matter of blood between us," stammered Donnegan. His voice rose in a peculiar manner, so that Lefty shrank involuntarily. "You killed Rusty?" "Ask any of the boys. But between you and me, it was the booze that licked Rusty Dick. I just finished up the job and surprised everybody."
Tom tried to imagine what a creature of that sort looked like, but he found it difficult. Not liking to appear stupid he accepted the explanation. "Oh!" he said. "It must be a very pretty animal." "Oh, yes!" said the Poker. "But he isn't as pretty as I can be when I try. My, how pretty I can be but say, Andies, where are we bound this trip?" "We've left that to Sleepyhead to decide," said Lefty.
"There is only one thing to do now and that is to send for the Bellows. If he'll come and blow in his usual style we'll have that cloud where we want it in less than no time. I'd blow it there myself, for I am a far better blower than the Bellows is my, how I can blow! But I'm out of breath trying to push the cloud." "I'll run back and get the Bellows," said Lefty.
"I wanted to, but the patent rules require that a working model should be sent with the request for a patent for the patent office to keep, which of course I couldn't do." "Why not?" asked Tom. "I couldn't get a boy who would consent to spend his life in the showcase. I could get all the corks I wanted, but no boy, and so I had to give it up," replied Lefty, with a sigh.
And my, how the Giant roared with glee when he caught sight of Ebenezer. "'Good! he cried, 'that's just what I wanted for my lunch. A nice fat boy. "Then he reached down," said the Righthandiron, "and grabbed Ebenezer by the arm, and was about to eat him just as he would a piece of asparagus, when Lefty here cried out: "'Avast there, Skihigh! That isn't a nice fat boy.
"Well, that's neither here nor there," retorted the Poker, poking his head out through the cloud. "Hullo! Who have you got there? That isn't Tom, is it?" "No it's Sleepyhead D. Dormouse," laughed Lefty. "Good," said the Poker, advancing and shaking Tom by the hand. "I was afraid it was Tom. Not that I dislike Tom, for I don't.
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