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"One ov Mike's little tricks," he chuckled, peering back at the shore, "I know the bark of that old girl. Hope I pricked him. That guy used to be a good shot, too, afore he got to drinkin' so much. I reckon we're in fer a siege, Jim." Westcott extended his hand. "It's mighty white of you, Dan, to stay by me," he said gravely. "It's liable to cost you your job." "Ter hell with the job.
"At last a letther came, written in Mike's own hand; and a beautiful hand it was that same, the good God bless him for the throuble he took in makin' it so nate an' aisy for us poor folk to rade.
"Oh," Margaret said, "you didn't tell me that." Her eyes searched Mike's. "Did he let Egypt go to pieces?" "He was anti-war, as I am," Mike said, "as all lovers of God and of mankind ought to be.
It happened that Mike Sikoria had been working nearby, and was one of those who helped to get the victim out. Mike's negro "buddy" had been in too great haste to get some of the rock out of the way, and had got his hand crushed, and would not be able to work for a month or so. Mike told Hal about it, in his broken English.
And the farm-houses of gables and weary brick, sometimes well-dismantled and showing the heavy beam, accentuated these visions of past days. Yes, indeed, the brick villages, the old gray farm-houses, and the windmill were very beautiful in the endless yellow draperies which this autumn country wore so romantically. One spot lingered in Mike's memory, so representative did it seem of that country.
The times are not the same as when you and I were young; and, though I'm sure I don't want to go against you, I think you are too hard on Esther. Love is love after all and Mike's one of the best-hearted lads that ever walked." "Thank you, mother," said Esther, impulsively, throwing her arms round her mother's neck, and bursting into tears, "I I will never give give him up."
A few moments later Mike, who insisted on being called "Captain," got into a skiff and rowed toward the land. Madge sprang to her feet and ran down to the edge of the water. She wished to attract Mike's attention before he went aboard his own shanty boat. To think with her was to act. She realized that she must speak to the man before his wife could tell him the nature of their errand.
So, side by side, grim, sallow, lowering, inseparable, undefeated, the cousins fought their way into the temple of Art art with a big A, which causes to intervene a lesson in geometry. One night at about eleven o'clock Del Delano dropped into Mike's place on Eighth Avenue. From that moment, instead of remaining a Place, the cafe became a Resort.
Only the very self-controlled can refrain from improving the occasion and scoring off the convert. Most leap at the opportunity. It was so in Mike's case. Mike was not a genuine convert, but to Mr. Downing he had the outward aspect of one. Mr. Downing assumed it. He was walking to the field with Adair and another member of his team when he came upon Mike. "What!" he cried.
Ever since Mike had received Strachan's answer and Adair had announced on the notice board that on Saturday, July the twentieth, Sedleigh would play Wrykyn, the team had been all on the jump. It was useless for Adair to tell them, as he did repeatedly, on Mike's authority, that Wrykyn were weak this season, and that on their present form Sedleigh ought to win easily.
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