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Updated: May 21, 2025
Her uncle, beside her, muttered: "Plucky boy! Plucky boy!" Her eyes flew open and she looked again. In the midst of the scattering foam she saw a small log over which her cousin had flung his left arm; his other arm was around the foreman, and Rafe was bearing his head above water. Turner had been struck and rendered senseless by the blow.
A great pile of stones had been hauled to the spot, evidently for the purpose of mending the wall, and these were serving as rich material for sport. The oldest of the company, a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked boy in an Eton jacket and broad white collar, was obviously commander-in-chief; and the next in size, whom he called Rafe, was a laddie of eight, in kilts.
He told him that whatever he laid upon him to do, that he must do. He made him lie to the people. He made him attack the young Whiting. He made him do many things that he would not do, for Rafe Gadbeau was not a bad man, only foolish sometimes. And Rafe Gadbeau was sore under the yoke of fear that this man had put upon him.
It's lucky if he isn't in again before they get that trouble over," responded Uncle Henry. Then he added, proudly: "That's the kind of boys we raise in the Big Woods, Nannie. Maybe they are rough-spoken and aren't really parlor-broke, but you can depend on 'em to do something when there's anything to do!" "Oh, Uncle!" cried the girl. "I think Rafe is just the bravest boy I ever saw.
The small log slipped through a race between two shallows, ahead of the greater timber. The latter indeed grounded for a moment and that gave the victim of the accident and his rescuer a chance for life. They shot ahead with the log to which Rafe clung. The men in the boat shouted encouragement, and rowed harder.
Rafe has his " he waved his hand toward the still industrious cameraman " and I have mine. I bet W R has a telescope or a periscope or a spectroscope somehow trained on us right now and will see to it the rescue party arrives ten minutes after all life is extinct."
"Comparin' of the road with the water," said Captain Rafe, father of Fluke and Gurdon, "I permits it to ye all that thar' ain't that steadiness about the land that thar' is about the water. Thar 's a kind o' a weaviness and onsartainty about the land."
He knew that Rafe Gadbeau had made confession to the Bishop. He had wanted to ask the Bishop this morning, if there was not some way. He had not dared. Now he dared. The Bishop stood waiting for his further questions. There might be some way or some help, thought Dardis; maybe some word had dropped which was not a part of the real confession.
"Stand back there, friends," warned Rafe Bodson, who still held his revolver in his right hand. "We don't want to see any more of the party hurt." Jeff had the gun in a moment, despite the insane fury with which Ashby fought. "Take care of this, Rafe," requested Jeff, turning over the gun, which Bodson received with his left hand.
He jumped in and seized the child, dragging her forth from the hollow of the big tree. He held her, while she squirmed and screamed. "You lemme alone, Rafe Sherwood! Lemme alone!" she commanded. "I ain't doin' nothin' to you." "Well, I bet you are up to some monkey-shines, out this time of night," said Rafe, giving her a little shake. "You come on back home, Mag." "I won't!" declared the girl.
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