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"'Remember the old boy you were talking to this morning? asked Ted between two mouthfuls of dum-dums that's beans, Uncle Bill. I 'lowed I remembered the old boy; in fact he'd stuck in my mind all day. "'Well, Ted went on, 'he's a ring-tailed snorter.
Once or twice they heard signals being exchanged deep in the woods, evidently by the scattered cohorts of Ted; but while valiant, the members of the Fox Patrols were wise and prudent as well, copying the cautious attributes of the wary animal after which their new organization had been named.
He might have saved himself the worry of wondering about Tim, for that afternoon's practice gave no time for anything save work. Ted Carter drove the players with a high-strung, nervous vim. He seemed to find time for everything first a signal drill, then fielding, then sliding into bases. Don was kept on the jump.
Or if little Ted had grown to be thirteen, and you and I had died in the wilderness of poverty, leaving him to wander out of the city to seek for a home in God's fair country, where his little peaked face could fill out and grow rosy, as Harry's has, would you think it just to have him sent away because he had made a boyish mistake? Of course you would not, mother.
"He's `rich' Ted, now; and better off in his snug moorings aloft than you and I here below!" "Yes, I know that, but it is hard to be content," replied the other, appearing lost in thought for some moments; until presently, recovering herself, she looked at her watch, when, seeing what time it was, she said they must start back for home at once. "Come along, children, time's up!"
"He gave his name as John Donaldson," stated the boy. "What!" I asked bewildered. "This man in Italy was called " "By my name," the boy said slowly. "John Donaldson." I reasoned a bit. "John Donaldson" is a name not impossible to be duplicated. "It was devilish odd," I said, "to run into your own handle like that, wasn't it?" The boy went on. "At that second Ted Frith ran along shouting, '7:30.
The entrance-room is entered through a hole in the roof, from which a ladder reaches the bottom of the passage." "Can we go into a hut?" asked Ted. "I'll ask that woman cooking over there," said Mr. Strong, as they went up to a woman who was cooking over a peat fire, holding over the coals an old battered skillet in which she was frying fish.
Her own husband had been a poor man, a bright young Canadian, as good-looking as Jervis Ferrars, but without his culture. Ted Burton had commanded one of the boats of the fishing fleet, and was holder of a good many shares in the company as well; but one day his vessel came home without him, and Mrs. Burton had to return a widow to her father's house.
Ted and Jack were glad to know what it was all about and listened attentively to the commands of the navigating officer and the interpretations given by their new-found friend.
"What is it?" he cried, and the old chief answered, gravely: "The City of the Dead," but his father said: "A mirage, my boy. They are often seen in these regions, but you are fortunate in seeing one of the finest I have ever witnessed." "What is a mirage?" demanded Ted. "An optical delusion," said his father, "and one I am sure I couldn't explain so that you would understand it.
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