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Updated: June 28, 2025


But O'Mara clung to the subject which he had introduced. "That's the trouble with hunting right here in the front yard," he admitted. "There are too many gunners anxious to hear their rifles go off. We might swing over toward the west branch, though. As long as this rain holds on the leaves will be quiet as a carpet. You've never seen my own private shooting box, either, have you Garry?"

This is my sister, Miss Hunter," he announced to the silent boy, "and this young man, Sarah, this young man is er ah Mr. "I'm Steve," said the boy, mildly. "I'm just Stephen O'Mara!" "Certainly!" gasped Caleb. "Quite so quite so! Sarah, this is just Steve." The frail little woman with her quaint dignity of another decade failed to move; she did not unbend so much as the fraction of an inch.

Do you understand what I'm trying to say? They always say it in in books, Mr. O'Mara. They always agree to be the 'best of friends, and it reads so funny and flat. But that is exactly what I am trying to put into words. It couldn't be anything more, ever, and yet I want this friendship which is different from everything I've ever known before. I like you very, very much.

Nothing had been determined upon, except that Dwyer and O'Mara should proceed under cover of the darkness to search the town for Heathcote, and by minute inquiries at the most frequented houses of entertainment, to ascertain his place of residence, in order to procuring a full and explanatory interview with him.

It was about a fortnight after young O'Mara had arrived in Dublin, where all things, and places, and amusements; and persons seemed thoroughly stale, flat, and unprofitable, when one day, tempted by the unusual fineness of the weather, Lady Emily proposed a walk in the College Park, a favourite promenade at that time.

She dressed herself quickly, and went down to breakfast, braced to play her part before the O'Maras. Short as her time with them, she was fond of them already. "I think your devotion is a bit hard on yer wife," remarked Mrs. O'Mara, whom Peggy had put in possession of the facts. "If I were her, I'd value an affection more that had less o' dishwashin' in it!"

There was a quaint twist to the letter S; sharp angles in the chirography which a newer decade of femininity might have found sadly lacking in a largeness of loops now indispensable as indication of "character." And there was a postscript, of course. "Stephen O'Mara has been several times to dinner, since your departure.

I have no possible motive to induce me to betray you; on the contrary, I would gladly assist and direct whatever plans you may have formed. Command me as you please; I have said enough. 'I will not doubt you, Dwyer, said O'Mara; 'I have taken my resolution I have, I think, firmness to act up to it.

Whether it was that Dwyer was more keenly interested in the success of his suit, or more deeply disappointed at its failure than he cared to express, or that he was in a less complacent mood than was his wont, it is certain that his countenance expressed more emotion at this direct insult than it had ever exhibited before under similar circumstances; for his eyes gleamed for an instant with savage and undisguised ferocity upon the young man, and a dark glow crossed his brow, and for the moment he looked about to spring at the throat of his insolent patron; but the impulse whatever it might be, was quickly suppressed, and before O'Mara had time to detect the scowl, it had vanished.

He, standing a little to one side, was smiling his queer, crooked, handsome smile, while Stephen O'Mara mauled the Honorable Archibald Wickersham with true riverman thoroughness, which meant the infliction of the greatest possible damage in the least possible time.

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