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Updated: May 9, 2025
"So long as Hawkins stays bought yes," I answered. "Don't be a death's head, Quib!" he retorted. "Why, even if he turned State's evidence, no one would believe him! Have another glass of this vintage we can drink it every night now for a year at Dillingham's expense!" "Well, here's to you, Gottlieb!"
Quib must have understood what Mart Penniman said, for he did not halt for one second till he reached the bars that led into that very field. It was more than a quarter of a mile from the potato-patch, but Quib had barked all the way probably out of respect for the size and importance of the coming woodchuck.
If not, it was his own fault, for every one of them had chased him before, and so had Quib. He knew every inch of that pasture-lot, and he knew the shortest way to the head of the deep ravine. "Boys!" shouted Abe Selover, with all the breath he had. "Boys! He's going for the glen! Now we've got him!"
"Quib," said he, "this fellow must never come back! do you understand? Once the district attorney gets hold of him, it's all up with us! It's Sing Sing for each of us ten years of it! For God's sake, hire somebody to put him out of the way! quietly. Many a man would take him off our hands for a thousand or so."
There was a hole, just there, large enough for a woodchuck, but too small for a dog. "Dig, boys! Dig!" "Dig yourself," said Pete Corry. "Who's going to dig a rock, I'd like to know?" "Let Quib in, anyhow. He'll drive him out."
Besides, Cohen confessed to me to-day that she had pumped him all about Hawkins's coming over to New York and signing papers; and, although he swears he didn't tell her anything in particular, yet I don't trust the idiot. No, Quib; it's bad business and we've got to get Hawkins out of the way at any cost."
The ravine was a rocky and wonderful place, and all the boys were perfectly familiar with it, and considered it the grandest play-house in the world, or, at least, in the vicinity of the village. If Quib once got the woodchuck penned up among those rocks, they could play hide-and-seek for him till they should find him.
Tell you wot, dough, if I'd ha' t'ought he'd run away 'fore I'd hoed dese taters, I'd nebber hab gibben him dat big bone. De rascal! He's jes' hid it away, somewhar, down 'mong de cabbages." That was what Quib had done with his precious bone; but now his little, lean, yellow legs were carrying him rapidly down the road, with half a dozen very noisy boys behind him. "Pete! Pete Corry!
Dillingham, Quib," said Gottlieb as I one day unexpectedly entered the latter's office. "We have a matter on hand in which he is interested." "Glad to know you, Mr. Quibble," quoth the client, extending a rather soft hand. "Your name is well known to me, although I have never personally had the pleasure of your acquaintance."
I can see a streak of light. It's like climbing up an old chimney. Quib's almost on him." All that time, while they were groping through that cave, Julius Davis was looking around the pasture-lot after them. He would have been glad of a small glimpse of Quib, but all he had found as yet was Mr.
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