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Updated: July 28, 2025
"You might knock a sliver off the bones, rappin' them together that way." He lighted one of his long cigars, his shrewd eyes searching Mr. Gammon all the time. "Now," said he, tipping down a battered wheelbarrow and sitting on it, "there's nothin' like gettin' down to cases. We're here official. The first selectman of this town is here. Go ahead, Cap'n Sproul, and put your questions."
He held the rooster a-straddle his arm, his broad hand on its back, and shook him under the Cap'n's nose. "I've earnt more'n a thousand dollars with P.T. and that's a profit in the hen business that all the condition powders this side of Tophet couldn't fetch." "A thousand dollars!" echoed Cap'n Sproul, stuffing his pipe. He gazed at P.T. with new interest.
And after a time he went forward, dragging himself cautiously, to join the little group of misery huddled in the folds of the fallen canvas. "A cargo of fools to save!" growled Cap'n Sproul, his eyebrows knotted in anxiety. "Myself among 'em! And they don't know what the matter is with 'em. We've struck the line gale that's what we've done!
Peter's eye with a crochet needle while he's unlocking the pearly gates for you, Lettie Cockrell," said Mrs. Sproul, as she rose and stood with ceremony at the head of the steps to meet the Governor and Mr. Jeffries and father as they came up her front walk. Mrs.
The men submerged at her side gasped and strangled, but clung with the death-grip of drowning men; and when at last she found bottom and dragged herself up the beach with the waves beating at her, she carried them all, salvaged from the sea in a fashion so marvellous that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first on his legs, had no voice left with which to express his sentiments.
"It was your seleckman that done it and a seleckman acts for a town. I reckon I shall do some more blowin' up." He calmly walked away up the street, passing Cap'n Sproul, who stood at one side. "I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" jeered Mr. Luce. "You don't dare to set down that sack," roared the selectman.
"I want to see your daughter, the young girl, the one that walked to Los Angeles the other day," she said, looking at the woman. "M'lissy?" queried Mrs. Sproul anxiously. "Lysander, do you know if M'lissy's about?" Her husband nodded backward. "She's over in the orchard, lookin' after the water. I'll" The stranger took two or three steps toward him and put out her hand. "May I go to her?
It was not exactly a veiled threat, but it was a hint that checked certain remarks that the Cap'n was about to address to the eavesdropper. Mr. Bodge took advantage of the truce, and seated himself on the edge of the porch, his peg-leg sticking straight out in forlorn nakedness. "Investments is resky things in these days, Cap'n Sproul.
But reflecting that Hiram Look, back in Smyrna, might circulate good-natured derogation of his mariner's courage, Cap'n Sproul set the Dobson's blunt nose to the heave of the sea, and would not have quailed before a tidal wave.
They trudged that way with deep bows at the threshold to their newly drafted foreman, who still glared at them speechlessly. When Mrs. Sproul returned at length, still fluttering in her excitement, he was reading the little pamphlet that had been left with him, a brick-red color slowly crawling up the back of his neck.
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