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Updated: June 27, 2025
Thus much the toll-collector said, but when asked if Rugg had appeared again he made no reply. Winnepurkit, sagamore of the coast settlements between Nahant and Cape Ann, had married Weetamoo, daughter of Passaconaway, king of the Pennacooks, and had taken her to his home. Their honeymoon was happy, but old ties are strong, and after a little time the bride felt a longing to see her people again.
Mark's next task was to go with Dan Rugg and Dummy to the entrance, wondering the while at the extent of the place and the hoard of all necessaries which the fellows had collected in the cavern.
As your professional adviser, I should prefer your being taken on a writ from one of the Superior Courts, if you have no objection to do me that favour. It looks better. 'Mr Rugg, said Arthur, in his dejection, 'my only wish is, that it should be over. I will go on, and take my chance. 'Another word of reason, sir! cried Mr Rugg. 'Now, this is reason.
"Wait, I'll go and catch him," said Bert, and started forward. But Danny saw him coming, and leaping over the side rail of the piazza, he ran to the back garden. "Stop," called Bert. "I know you, Danny Rugg!" "I ain't Danny Rugg!" shouted Danny in a rough voice. "I'm somebody else." He continued to run and Bert made after him. At last Danny reached the back fence.
It was a combination of the familiarity which breeds contempt and the confidence born of long experience which made Dan Rugg stand there so coolly for what seemed to be a long time before turning as he watched the burning fuse. "Heads down there," he said suddenly; "she's going off."
'Sir, said Mr Rugg, taking him by the hand, 'you are a young man that it does one good to come across. You are a young man that I should like to put in the witness-box, to humanise the minds of the legal profession. I hope you have brought your appetite with you, and intend to play a good knife and fork? 'Thank you, sir, returned Young John, 'I don't eat much at present.
There were just about enough of the white crystals on the ground, when the school children came out to make a few snowballs, and this they at once proceeded to do. Danny Rugg, who had not forgiven Bert for the many times the Bobbsey lad had gotten the best of him, threw a ball at Freddie. But Bert was on the watch, and managed to jump up and catch the white missile in his hand.
Rugg died within a twelvemonth, and Peter never reached home, but from all parts of New England came stories of a man and child driving rapidly along the highways, never stopping except to inquire the way to Boston.
I had now, as I thought, discovered a clue to the history of Peter Rugg, and I determined, the next time my business called me to Boston, to make a further inquiry. Soon after I was enabled to collect the following particulars from Mrs. Croft, an aged lady in Middle Street, who has resided in Boston during the last twenty years.
Rugg is going up to see about having lumber cut," said Nan, "I guess there won't be much fun for Danny. Maybe he won't bother us at all." "He will if he gets a chance," declared her brother. "Danny's just that kind. But we'll wait and see."
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