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Updated: June 2, 2025
That ain't him at all, at all! The visitor departed in disgust. We instituted an investigation and found that the man at the Island was a 'ringer." "You don't say!" cried the lawyer. "Yes," continued the district attorney. "But that is not the best part of it. You see, the 'ringer' says he was to get two hundred dollars per month for each month of Dough's sentence which he served.
'Well, said Clerk Crickett, turning to the man in black, 'now you've been among us so long, and d'know us so well, won't ye tell us what ye've come here for, and what your trade is? 'I am no trade, said the thin man, smiling, 'and I came to see the wickedness of the land. 'I said thou wast one o' the devil's brood wi' thy black clothes, replied a sturdy ringer, who had not spoken before.
"Nothing there to give us any help," he acknowledged reluctantly, "mostly advice as far as I can see. Damn the light; a glow worm would be better." There was a pause; then he slapped his leg. "However, it's clear they live in Springfield, Missouri, and this photograph is a peach. Just look here, Bill! What did I tell you? Ain't Christie a dead ringer for this girl?"
I took some leaves from one of the decorative wreaths in the little parlour, and made a chaplet of them, and placed them on née Bates' shining chestnut hair, and made her turn her profile to her husband. "By jingo!" said he. "Isn't Ida's a dead ringer for the lady's head on the silver dollar?" He compelled my interest as he stepped from the ferry at Desbrosses Street.
As the idea stuck more deeply into his imagination he smashed his fist down on the table so that the crockery on it danced. "A damned good reason, say I!" "Who's your father?" asked Dick Wilbur, who eyed Pierre more critically but with less enmity than the rest. "Martin Ryder." "A ringer!" cried Bud Mansie, and he leaned forward alertly. "You remember what I said, Jim?" "Shut up.
Then John turned to have one more look at the old church, in which he had been christened in his infancy, and where his father had taken him every Sunday to hear the service and join in singing the psalms. As he looked at the old tower, he espied the ringer standing at one of the narrow openings, with his little pointed red cap on his head, and shading his eyes from the sun with his bent arm.
John nodded farewell to him, and the little ringer waved his red cap, laid his hand on his heart, and kissed his hand to him a great many times, to show that he felt kindly towards him, and wished him a prosperous journey.
Whoever the ringer might be, he was ringing as though it was his only hope for life, and the bell swung back and forth without a pause. The red glow in the fog brightened again as the Captain gazed at it. Captain Jerry came tumbling up the stairs, breathless and half dressed. "Where do you make it out to be?" he panted. "Somewhere's nigh the post-office. Looks 's if it might be Weeks's store.
Leaning out so that he was almost prone on one of the timbers, he finally perceived the ringer, clinging with his hands to two iron handles and balancing over the gulf with his eyes turned heavenward. Durtal was shocked by the face. Never had he seen such disconcerting pallor.
"Maybe you been up the Bear Creek way?" he asked Terry. And when the latter admitted that he knew something of the Blue Mountain country, the rancher exclaimed: "By the Lord, partner, I'd say that hoss is a ringer for El Sangre." "Pretty close to a ringer," said Terry. "This is El Sangre himself." They were jogging out of town.
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