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Updated: May 10, 2025
"T-take hold of this rope-end. Throw yourself flat on the ground there. Sit on him, you girls, so that he may not be drawn over!" cried a voice, pointed, vigorous. Pem knew that it was the fiery voice of the nickum, the broad-shouldered youth, who had sat in the chair before her, whose crowing had been responsible for her feat.
"A dozen aëroplanes! A corps of aëroplanes!" boomed back those flaunting big boys, of whom the nickum was leader, playing up to the cue of the Scoutmaster who had started the concentrated cry. "Oh, hurry hurry!" She saw him fling his mayflowers on the ground, that strange youth, and snatch at Una's hand, to drag her along towards the low cave entrance.
It was the same breathlessly unreal feeling the same dim moonlit groping, that she had felt as she sat on the cliff-brow with Stud, when he talked of the nickum and his father and called the latter a "queer fish!" For one thing she knew at a glance! She had seen the injured man, who lay calling for help in a miry spot of the Man Killer trail, before. Three times before, said lightning perception!
It was the freakish voice of a nickum which answered. "No! No buzzer, as the boys say, but there was a rattler, in there, beside that rock. If some of you girls had gone ahead, you'd have stepped right on him!" "A 'rattler! A big rattlesnake! And and you started the cry, to get us out quietly quickly!" "Not we! The Scoutmaster had the presence of mind to launch an aëroplane.
But the sturdiest among them was simply barbaric. The warm sunlight of May dripped golden from his nickum shoulders, bronzed to the hue of a statue, bathed his bare knees and feet, his khaki shorts, the flame of an apricot jersey, the black and yellow cap, the sheaf of mayflowers within his arm. "Oh! how boys big boys do revel in color.
Nobody could tell where they were, indeed, figuratively, of course, except except that the experiment was a failure, so far as any proof to the World was concerned! Except that Toandoah's hopes were dashed, if not broken! The first record from Space was stolen, or lost. No! She did not think the nickum had taken it, that mysterious Jack at a Pinch!
And just as free and frank in her girlish gratitude as that torrent bubbling impulsively out of the earth, when the nickum reached the crest again, she sprang forward, hand outstretched, to meet him. Her eyes, blue as the little fairy blossoms of the star-grass now, were breeze blown in the meadow of her gladness.
There's a vain elf in you somewhere, Pem, that sleeps in the shadow of the Wise Woman." "Maybe maybe, there's a nickum! That's Andrew's word, Andrew's word for an imp, a tomboy. He's the Grosvenors' Scotch chauffeur, you know, who talks with a thistle under his tongue. Well! nickum, or not!" the girl was a rosy weathercock again.
True humor is never without a sense of proportion. It knows where to stop. But if the nickum was not the thief, who then? Ta-te, the tempest otherwise the mountain gusts had to be acquitted too.
There was one. The nickum churlish climber had pulled himself up by it. Like him, she had fought shy of it, sliding down, for fear it should catch in her clothing. A little spur it was, projecting from a slight fissure, what he called a "nick," in the rock, rather more than half-way up, a good seven feet from the rocky armchair. Breathlessly she reached upward, to grasp it.
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