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Two weeks, she thought, would suffice to wear them out, but two weeks in her small mind was an eternity when it was to be faced without him. "Oh, Davy, I wish he hadn't done it," she cried. "If he hadn't shot Mr. Lukens, then he wouldn't have to run away, would he?" "That was just a mistake," I replied, as though shooting constables were quite a favorite sport where I lived.
Lukens he was to come here early for you, and I thought if I was in time you might run away." To run away seemed to me the only thing for the Professor to do, and I expected that at the mere mention of the terrible Lukens he would scurry to the mountain-top as fast as his legs would carry him. Yet he held the constable in as little terror as he did Mr.
The clearing was as quiet as in the earlier morning when I had looked over it at the Professor studying the distant tree-top. "What do you see, Davy?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Nothing," I answered. "They've gone away." "And isn't Lukens there out there in the weeds?" I rubbed the smutted glass and peered through it again into every corner of the clearing. "No," I said, "there's nothing there."
To come farther they hesitated until they had made it perfectly clear that they acted in his best interests. Even Byron Lukens was willing to let "bygones be bygones." "I'm just doing of my duty, Mr. Blight," he said in a wheedling tone, "and if you'll come along quiet-like I'll say nothing about it to the squire." "You can fix it all up with the squire," I heard Joe Holmes say.
I cried. "Why, Davy!" He gave a start of surprise. The frightened look passed and he reached out his hands to my shoulders. I shrank back. The scream of Byron Lukens still rang in my ears, and to me there was something very terrible in this man who had dared to kill, this man for whom all the valley would soon be hunting, this man who even now might be standing in the shadow of the gallows.
He would remember the boy who had come to him, cold and wet, from the depths of a mountain stream, the boy who had run miles in the early morning to warn him of the approach of the terrible Lukens, the boy whom he had called his only friend. He would see me dignified by a tail coat and beautified by a mauve tie, a white waistcoat and gleaming patent-leather shoes.
The squire replied with heat, referring to the case of The Commonwealth versus Hodgins, and the subsequent action of Hodgins versus The Commonwealth for damages. It was very evident that he would be relieved in mind if the case of The Commonwealth versus Blight did simmer down. But there was one obstacle to this programme of forgetting. It was not the constable. Lukens could be quieted easily.
Timothy's great and prosperous parish. To begin with, the table itself had been set up in its place in the front room by Tim Lukens the carpenter, who when he was sober was one of the cleverest of artisans.
Now I was filled with admiration for the physical prowess of this man who could whip the intrepid constable, for in Malcolmville there was no one whom I held in so much awe as Byron Lukens. He was mighty in bulk; his voice was proportioned to his size; his words fitted his voice.
The child has measured his own productions upon the object they reproduced and found them wanting, is discouraged and dislikes drawing. From twelve on, Barnes found drawing more and more distasteful; and this, too, Lukens found to be the opinion of our art teachers. The pupils may draw very properly and improve in technique, but the interest is gone.
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