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"It's there, Jennie found it, wife ain't had all my work for nothin' I tell you! A vein of hard coal, think, enough to make us all rich! D'ye hear that, Jennie, girl, rich! Gimme a drink of water, for I'm nigh dead from runnin' to tell you the great news. Who's these boys, wife? Where's Sallie at?"

For motives of my own, I planned to transplant your sweet Ellaline from our motor-car to the motor-car of others for the day. The "others" are George and Sallie Tyndal, about whose sudden, apropos appearance I wrote your mother only yesterday; but, of course, as you're leaving to-day you'll miss the news in that letter.

Brown, Bunny, and Sue, promising to come often again to see Mr. Clayton. "Wasn't it queer," said Mart, "that, after all, he should come to the same Home we're going to help with the farm play?" "Very strange, indeed," said Mr. Brown. "And now, if we can only get word from Uncle Simon and Aunt Sallie, how happy we'll be!" exclaimed Lucile. "Oh, I'm sure you'll hear soon, my dear," said Mrs.

And Davie's thin, childlike face had an inquiry in it that Sandy very well understood. "No, no, father, no further on this road, please God!" Then he hailed a passing car, and put the old man tenderly in it, and resolutely turned his back upon the hated point to which he had been going. Of course he thought of Sallie as they rode home, and the children and the trouble there was likely to be.

So they all marched off through the woods, just like real soldiers, and pretty soon they came to the place where Brighteyes and Sister Sallie and all the girls were having a picnic. "You're just in time," called Brighteyes. "Come and have some lunch, and some lemonade. You must be tired after all that fighting."

He took the jug and she looked up at him with a smile. "How's your uncle, Sallie?" "He ain't any better." Her uncle was Wash Sanders. Twenty years had passed since he had first issued a bulletin that he was dying. He had liver trouble and a strong combination of other ailments, but he kept on living.

There was an old cuss living over there on that river who was land poor, but had a powerful purty girl. Her old man owned any number of plantations on the river generally had lots of nigger renters to look after. Miss Sallie, the daughter, was the belle of the neighborhood. She had all the graces with a fair mixture of the weaknesses of her sex.

"Never mind, I'll help you make one," promised Sister Sallie, so the two little friends walked on through the woods. "What will you make my doll of?" asked Brighteyes. "I don't just know yet," said Sallie. "I will look around for something."

"And Bunny thought Sallie Malinda had walked off by herself," said Sue, "but daddy said she couldn't, for there is nothing in her to wind up. So that couldn't happen." "Then who took her?" asked the ragged man.

Aleck's voice and manner were friendly enough to disarm suspicion itself; Sallie Kingsbury looked at him for a full second. "Come in." Aleck followed her into the wide, dim hall, and waited while she pulled down the shade of the sidelight which she had lifted for observation.

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