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Updated: September 28, 2025
They are killing Byrne," and then she turned back into the room, and with the short sword which she still grasped in her hand sprang to the side of the mucker who was offering his life to save her. Byrne cast a horrified glance at the figure fighting by his side. "Fer de love o' Mike! Beat it!" he cried. "Duck! Git out o' here!"
"Youse savvy deyre lingo den, eh?" "A little." "Tell dis gazimbat to wise his pals to de fact dat I'll croak 'im, if dey don't beat it, an' let us make our get-away. Theriere says as how he's kink when his ole man croaks, an' his ole man was de guy youse put to sleep in de chicken coop," explained the mucker lucidly; "so dis slob's kink hisself now."
The party had proceeded in this fashion for nearly half a mile when suddenly they were attracted by a low exclamation from the mucker. "Here!" he called. "Here's Miller an' the Swede, an' they sure have mussed 'em up turrible." The others hastened in the direction of his voice, to come to a horrified halt at the sides of the headless trunks of the two sailors.
He swallowed hard. His face twitched, and his hands were clenched. "You are pretty much of a mucker, Mr. Smart," he said, between his teeth. "I'm sorry my sister has fallen into your hands. The worst of it is, she seems satisfied with everything you do. Good Lord! What she can see in you is beyond my comprehension. Protection! Why you couldn't protect her from the assault of a chicken."
There was nothing more to be done than that; there was no water, even, to bathe the cut with. "Nan." "Yes?" "Am I much hurt? How much hurt, do you think?" "I don't know how much. I think the arm is broken. The leg may be only sprained. Then there's the cut I daresay that isn't very much but one can't tell that." "I must have come an awful mucker," Gerda murmured, after a pause.
"What's that?" screamed Bert in added fury. "You insult me -you -you mucker?" "If I'm a mucker, then you don't need to feel insulted at my opinion of you," Dick suggested, with a smile. But this hesitancy on the part of Prescott was filling Bert Dodge with more valor every instant. "Prescott, I've owed you something for a mighty long time," quivered Bert. "And now it's coming! Here it is!"
Then, summoning all his remaining strength, Ripley hauled off and struck astounded Dick on the face, sending the captain of the hounds to the ground. "Take that, mucker!" shouted the assailant. Those of the hounds who had not shot by, halted in sheer amazement. Like a flash Dick was on his feet, his eyes flashing, cheeks flushing crimson. "Go on, hounds, go on!" he shouted.
"Why not croak him?" suggested Byrne. "Not unless we have to," replied Theriere; "he's just a boy we'll doubtless have all the killing we want among the men before we get out of this." "I never did have no use fer Chinks," said the mucker, as though in extenuation of his suggestion that they murder the youth.
If you can't get along with him, avoid him -but don't try to buck him!" "Humph!" retorted Porter. "If you mean Prescott and his gang -Dick & Co., as the fellows call them -I can follow one part of your advice by avoiding them. I never did and never could like that mucker Prescott!"
"One day while I was carrying on my work in Newark, a Wall Street broker came from the city and said he was tired of the 'Street, and wanted to go into something real. He said he had plenty of money. He wanted some kind of a job to keep his mind off Wall Street. So we gave him a job as a 'mucker' in chemical experiments.
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