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But the fancy that came to him most frequently and stayed with him longest was one connected with the great roll of fat under Losson's right ear. He noticed it first on a moonlight night, and thereafter it was always before his eyes. It was a fascinating roll of fat.

Simmons fell back on the arm-rack deliberately, the men were at the far end of the room, and took out his rifle and packet of ammunition. "Don't go playing the goat, Sim!" said Losson. "Put it down," but there was a quaver in his voice. Another man stooped, slipped his boot and hurled it at Simmon's head. The prompt answer was a shot which, fired at random, found its billet in Losson's throat.

Losson fell forward without a word, and the others scattered. 'You thought it was! yelled Simmons. 'You're drivin' me to it! I tell you you're drivin' me to it! Get up, Losson, an' don't lie shammin' there you an' your blasted parrit that druv me to it! But there was an unaffected reality about Losson's pose that showed Simmons what he had done. The men were still clamouring in the veranda.

Losson fell forward without a word, and the others scattered. "You thought it was!" yelled Simmons. "You're drivin' me to it! I tell you you're drivin' me to it! Get up, Losson, an' don't lie shammin' there-you an' your blasted parrit that druv me to it!" But there was an unaffected reality about Losson's pose that showed Simmons what he had done. The men were still clamoring on the veranda.

I must ha' been on forty or fifty prisoners' gyards, first an' last, an' I hate ut new ivry time." "Let's see. You were on Losson's, Lancey's, Dugard's, and Stebbins's, that I can remember," I said. "Ay, an' before that an' before that scores av thim," he answered with a worn smile. "Tis betther to die than to live for thim, though.

But there was an unaffected reality about Losson's pose that showed Simmons what he had done. The men were still clamouring in the verandah. Simmons appropriated two more packets of ammunition and ran into the moonlight, muttering: "I'll make a night of it. Thirty roun's, an' the last for myself. Take you that, you dogs!"

Simmons fell back on the arm-rack deliberately, the men were at the far end of the room, and took out his rifle and packet of ammunition. 'Don't go playing the goat, Sim! said Losson. 'Put it down, but there was a quaver in his voice. Another man stooped, slipped his boot and hurled it at Simmons's head. The prompt answer was a shot which, fired at random, found its billet in Losson's throat.

But the fancy that came to him most frequently and stayed with him longest was one connected with the great roll of fat under Losson's right ear. He noticed it first on a moonlight night, and thereafter it was always before his eyes. It was a fascinating roll of fat.

The prompt answer was a shot which, fired at random, found its billet in Losson's throat. Losson fell forward without a word, and the others scattered. "You thought it was!" yelled Simmons. "You're drivin' me to it! I tell you you're drivin' me to it! Get up, Losson, an' don't lie shammin' there you an' your blasted parrit that druv me to it!