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Updated: June 9, 2025
There ain't a dog big 'r little within ten mile that Dan ain't licked. He'd sooner fight than he would eat, that dog." "I will, I will," answered Lloyd, climbing to the high seat, "and if I find him I shall drag him back by the scruff of his neck. Good-morning, Lewis. Why have you put the overhead check on Rox?" Lewis touched his cap.
He shot a glance about him. Not twenty yards away was the canal and the perilously narrow bridge the bridge without the guard-rail. "Quick, Miss Searight!" he shouted. "Jump! We can't hold him. Quick, do as I tell you, jump!" But even as he spoke Rox dragged him from his feet, his hoofs trampling the hollow road till it reverberated like the roll of drums.
"'Pon my soul, Rox, you are not in earnest?" "Never more so." "But, my dear fellow " "You won't do it? That's what your tone means," in despair. "It isn't that, and you know it. I've got nothing to lose. It's you that will have to suffer. You're known all over Europe. What will be said when the trick is discovered? 'Gad, man!" "Then you will go?" with beaming eyes.
Adjining the Bareacre proppaty is a small piece of land of about 100 acres, called Squallop Hill, igseeding advantageous for the cultivation of sheep, which have been found to have a pickewlear fine flaviour from the natur of the grass, tyme, heather, and other hodarefarus plants which grows on that mounting in the places where the rox and stones don't prevent them.
He would have had you in the canal in another second, if he did not kill you on the way there." "Poor old Rox," murmured Lloyd; "I was very fond of Rox." Bennett put himself in her way as she stepped forward. He had the lap-robe over his arm and the whip in his hand. "No, don't look at him. He's not a pretty sight. Come, shall I take you home?
Bracing himself against every unevenness of the ground, his teeth set, his face scarlet, the veins in his neck swelling, suddenly blue-black, Bennett wrenched at the bit till the horse's mouth went bloody. But all to no purpose; faster and faster Rox was escaping from his control. "Jump, I tell you!" he shouted again, looking over his shoulder; "another second and he's away."
Lloyd dropped the reins and turned to jump. But the lap-robe had slipped down to the bottom of the cart when she had risen, and was in a tangle about her feet. The cart was rocking like a ship in a storm. Twice she tried to free herself, holding to the dashboard with one hand. Then the cart suddenly lurched forward and she fell to her knees. Rox was off; it was all over. Not quite.
Then she saw the short-handled geologist's hammer gripped in Bennett's fist heave high in the air. Down it came, swift, resistless, terrible one blow. The cart tipped forward as Rox, his knees bowing from under him, slowly collapsed. Then he rolled upon the shaft that snapped under him, and the cart vibrated from end to end as a long, shuddering tremble ran through him with his last deep breath.
Even if Dan had been killed, it had been in fair fight, and there could be no doubt that Dan himself had been the aggressor. What a horror! She took out her whip. "Shame on you!" she exclaimed. "Ugh! what a savage; I shan't allow you!" A farm-hand was coming across the plank bridge, and as he drew near the cart Lloyd asked him to hold Rox for a moment.
The mourners laid him on his pall, his three assorted names and all, and said: "Doggone him! Now he'll stop this thing of writing helpful slop." He got the finest grave in town, and marble things to hold him down. Long years have passed since R. R. Rox was placed in silver-mounted box; and does he rest in peace? Instead, he's working harder now he's dead.
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