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Updated: July 19, 2025
Bill Saxby is a tradesman by nature and if you will lend him enough money to set himself up as a linen-draper and haberdasher, Uncle Peter, he can live happily ever after." "And old Trimble Rogers has sailed his last cruise under the Jolly Roger, Councilor," put in Joe Hawkridge. "His timbers are full o' dry rot and he seeks a safe mooring."
It was a futile quest, possibly because the high spring tides, when swept by easterly gales, had now and then crept back from the coast to cover the knoll and obliterate man's handiwork. Like a hunter bewitched, the gray buccaneer was absorbed in this rare pastime until Bill Saxby exclaimed: "Is there no wit in our addled pates? Quit this dashed folly!
And at 10.30 that morning, he left Saxby for the South Coast. My cousin met me at St. Pancras. I saw him before my own carriage had reached the platform, peering into the window of every compartment in his short-sighted way. He recognized me at last with a little wave of the hand. "Glad to see you, Hardross! These your things? We'll have a hansom. Where are you staying?"
THE ship's boat was bound into the bay, probably to lie there for daybreak, and Jack Cockrell rushed down to the beach where he set up such a frantic hullabaloo that the sailors ceased singing and held their breath and their oars suspended. They had come to look for Bill Saxby and Trimble Rogers, but this was a strange voice.
I have been in a devilish state of depression ever since; and said indeed to Long Saxby last night man of six foot ten, with whom my friend Dombey is probably acquainted that it had upset me in a confounded way, and made me bilious.
He regained his former course on the river he calls the Norman, but which may have been the Saxby, and up this river he toiled till he reached the network of watersheds which forms such a jumble of broken country at the heads of the Burdekin, Lynd, Gilbert and Flinders.
And again there had been a glimpse of him trudging in the column which had followed Stede Bonnet, with trumpet and drum, to attack the hostile Indians. Jack's heart warmed to Trimble Rogers and also to young Bill Saxby. They would find some way out of all this tribulation. "Whither lies Captain Bonnet's stout ship?" eagerly demanded Jack. "On this side the Western Ocean," smiled Saxby.
Bill Saxby interrupted, in a petulant manner: "Stow it, grandsire! At a better time ye can please the lad with your long-winded yarns, of marching on Panama with Henry Morgan when the mother's milk was scarce dry on your lips."
At failing to find it there, they argued hotly and were much distressed. Jack Cockrell's fears were calmed. These were no men of Blackbeard's company, but good Bill Saxby and his mate. He called to them from his perch and they stood wondering at this voice from heaven. In a jiffy Jack had slid down and was beckoning them.
Your aunt says that we are to go home on the afternoon train tomorrow. She is terribly upset." I just curled up on the bed and cried, while Mrs. Saxby packed my trunk. I will have no chance to explain matters to Mr. Shelmardine. And I will never see him again, for Aunt is quite capable of whisking me off to Africa. He will just think me a feather-brained flirt. Oh, I am so unhappy!
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