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Updated: May 3, 2025
"I will pay you for your time." "You will?" "Yes." "Where did you come from, stranger?" "That's my business." "Is it? Well, it's my business not to guide you to Tom Pearce's cottage." "Hang it, you are a surly lot around here." "You are a surly lot yourself." "I only wish to be guided to a man's cabin." "Well, if you would give a little information you might receive in return a great deal more."
He was the same person also, who decamped with Captain Pearce's sword, and a large sum of money in kowries. The fellow, however, on being taxed with his dishonesty, made very light of his offence, and with the utmost effrontery begged every thing that he saw, so that the Landers lost their temper with the scoundrel, and turned him out of the hut in disgust.
"I dreamt that a man I know named Bill Flurry, but wot called 'imself another name in my dream, and didn't know me then, came 'ere one evening when we was all sitting down at supper, Joe Morgan and 'is missis being here, and said as 'ow Mrs. Pearce's fust husband was alive and well." "That's a very odd dream," ses his uncle; "but wot was Joe Morgan and his missis in it for?" "Witnesses," ses Alf.
"The meat!" she exclaimed, striking the latch down. She had forgotten the meat. There was Rebecca at the window. The bareness of Mrs. Pearce's front room was fully displayed at ten o'clock at night when a powerful oil lamp stood on the middle of the table. The harsh light fell on the garden; cut straight across the lawn; lit up a child's bucket and a purple aster and reached the hedge. Mrs.
"I dreamt that a man I know named Bill Flurry, but wot called 'imself another name in my dream, and didn't know me then, came 'ere one evening when we was all sitting down at supper, Joe Morgan and 'is missis being here, and said as 'ow Mrs. Pearce's fust husband was alive and well." "That's a very odd dream," ses his uncle; "but wot was Joe Morgan and his missis in it for?" "Witnesses," ses Alf.
Several of Pearce's old shipmates were on board the "Blanche," and two of his messmates, from one of whom, Harry Verner, he would rather have been separated; the other, David Bonham, he was very glad to see.
Pearce's customary matutinal visit was unusually agreeable to-day, inasmuch as he laid on my desk nineteen golden sovereigns and thirteen shillings. It being the day of the steamer's departure, an unusual number of invoice certificates had been required, my signature to each of which brings me two dollars.
She recognized Red Pearce's voice. And she wheeled to look. Pearce had overhauled the gambler, and already men were approaching. Involuntarily Joan halted. What would happen? The gambler spoke to Pearce, made what appeared deprecating gestures, as if to explain. But Pearce looked angry. "I'll tell her daddy!" he shouted. Joan waited for no more. She almost ran. There would surely be a fight.
The detective had just completed his change in appearance, when he was startled by hearing a shrill piercing scream in a female voice from the direction of Tom Pearce's cabin.
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