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Updated: June 6, 2025
"They seem to be gettin' the range!" Pat said, scratching his head and blessing his lucky star that a bullet had not connected with it. "They couldn't hit a flock of bridges!" said Jimmie, disdainfully. Then he straightened up and gave out a long, shrill cry, like that of a wolf calling to the pack. Pat caught him by the arm and drew him back into the semi-shelter of the "legs" of the balete tree.
But the youthful fur-clad figure kept straight on to the veranda of the house, and Ruthven, curious and determined to find out whether it was Alixe or not, left the semi-shelter of the evergreens and crossed the open space just as the woman's figure disappeared around an angle of the veranda. Vexed, determined not to return without some definite discovery, Ruthven stepped upon the veranda.
The passenger did his own disembarking, making his way into the garden without a backward look. Then Val demanded an explanation. "What are you doing here?" he tried to out-screech the wind. In answer she clapped her wet, muddy hand across his mouth and pulled him back from the levee. They reached the semi-shelter of a rotting summer-house where he put down the chest.
When they were fairly out of the semi-shelter of the point behind which Hollis lay, Tunis and his two companions realized very quickly just what they had to contend with. They had spread a handbreadth of mainsail, but the jib was blown out of the boltropes by one big swoop of wind and carried down to leeward, looking like a giant's shirt. "Still feel that tug to sta'bbo'd," grumbled Horry.
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