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Updated: May 8, 2025
"What about him?" "Oh, nothing much. Only he told me about you. And now what he didn't guess I know, Mr. William Conniston, Junior." "And, pray, what might that be?" "Want me to tell you, eh? Want to be sure that I know, do you? Want to see if Oliver Swinnerton is a fool, blind in both eyes? All right." His voice dropped yet lower, and he blinked with cunning eyes as he finished.
"And I wanted to talk with you about" his left eyelid, red and puffy, drooped, and his right eye squinted craftily "about reclamation." "I can't imagine what common interests you and I have in reclamation. And I am in a hurry." Oliver Swinnerton chuckled as at a rare jest. "How do, Kent?" was what he said, having seen Jimmie Kent, it would seem, for the first time.
"Why, visiting Amy Swinnerton." Who could keep from laughing over this brother and sister who loved the life on the road and the campfire? "Thank fortune, I'm not in line for the title," Richard whispered to Billie under cover of the conversation of the others, "and Grandpapa or no Grandpapa, I shall buy that farm, do you guess where?" "I can't imagine," answered Billie. "In West Haven.
You know what will happen if you make a mistake and try to get too much out of them?" "Dead easy, Mr. Conniston," grinned the Lark. "They'll quit. They say there is lots of easy graft up in the mountains with a guy named Swinnerton." "Then," went on Conniston, quietly, "you've got to be careful not to drive them too hard. Keep your men good-natured. If you see any signs of balking let me know.
Swinnerton, who, throughout his long practice, was accustomed personally to concoct the medicines which he prescribed and dispensed.
So it happened that Richard Hook went ambling off into the twilight on old Dobbin while Maggie Hook and her friend, Amy Swinnerton, made Miss Campbell comfortable in the van and prepared to cook supper. "And you are not Gypsies after all?" asked the little lady, watching one of the girls light a bracket lamp on the wall of the van. "No, indeed," laughed Maggie Hook.
They told stories of similar cases, of men with double identities who had been lost for years, of men who had made new lives for themselves and even earned fortunes. "I knew he was a prince the first time I saw him," Mary exclaimed. "And now Phoebe will be a princess and perhaps very rich," observed Elinor. "Think of stepping from a cabin to a palace," went on Amy Swinnerton.
He liked this man, though he did not know him very well; for he was continually about the country, now in London, now at Norbury, now at Swinnerton, always occupied with these endless matters of fines and recusancy. Robin saluted him then, and said a word or two; bowed to Mr. Thomas, his son, who came up to speak with him; and then looked for Marjorie.
The young man had long ago, it must be added, demanded of his grandfather the documents included in the legacy of Professor Swinnerton, and had spent days and nights upon them, growing pale over their mystic lore, which seemed the fruit not merely of the Professor's own labors, but of those of more ancient sages than he; and often a whole volume seemed to be compressed within the limits of a few lines of crabbed manuscript, judging from the time which it cost even the quick-minded student to decipher them.
Swinnerton had originally elevated it, in front of his shop in the main street, and to retire to his private dwelling, situated in a by-lane and on the edge of a burial-ground. This house, as well as the Brazen Serpent, some old medical books, and a drawer full of manuscripts, had come to him by the legacy of Dr. Swinnerton.
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