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"You haf, of course, ze papaire of health, and ze papaire of clearance for St. Pierre?" "No; I have no papers except a certificate of registry." "Ah! Is it possible? In zat case ze commandant of ze frigate 'Isla' will be please to see you on board at your earlies' convenience." "I thought so," said White, in a low tone. Then aloud, he replied: "All right, lieutenant.
"I zay," suddenly exploded Zahoul "dees papaire eet half contemptuous article on ze menkaha zat dees Kasheed Hassoun not kill dees Sardi Babu!" "He says," translated Pepperill, "that the newspaper contains an indiscreet article in favor of the defense. I had no idea there would be any improper attempt to influence the jury." "What difference does it make, anyway?" inquired His Honor.
"You mak' write on de papaire non?" A swift anger surged in the girl's heart. "No!" she cried. "I will not write! I have no such amount in any bank this side of San Francisco! But if I had a million dollars, you would not get a cent! You can't bluff me!"
"Don't be a fool, Vermilion! Do you suppose I came into this country with a hundred thousand dollars in cash or even a tenth of that amount?" The man shrugged indifferently. "Non, but you mak' de write on de papaire, an' Menard, he tak' heem to de bank Edmonton Preence Albert. He git de money. By-m-by, two mont', me'be, he com' back. Den, Vermilion, he tak' you close to de H.B. post bien!
Pepperill, approached, bowed and, twisting his purple mustache, addressed the court: "Your Excellence: I haf to zay dat dees papaire eet haf articles on zis affair ze memkaha zat are not diplomatique." Judge Wetherell blinked at him. "Who's this man?" he demanded. "That's the interpreter," explained W.M.P. "Interpreter!" answered the court. "I can't understand a word he says!"
"If I do win?" Harrington pressed. She looked from dog to lover and back again. "What you say, Wolf Fang? If him strong mans and file the papaire, shall we his wife become? Eh? What you say?" Wolf Fang picked up his ears and growled at Harrington. "It is vaire cold," she suddenly added with feminine irrelevance, rising to her feet and straightening out the team. Her lover looked on stolidly.
No odddr mans know what of him become. The mans, him which drive the stake, is nevaire no more. Sixty days no mans on that claim file the papaire. Then odder mans, plentee odder mans what you call jump that claim. Then they race, O so queek, like the wind, to file the papaire. Him be vaire rich. Him get grub for famine." Harrington hid the major portion of his interest.
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