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"Yes," said Meakim, with a smile, "he's here." He looked at Holcombe curiously for a moment, and then exclaimed, with a laugh of intelligence, "Why, sure enough, you were Mr. Thatcher's lawyer in that case, weren't you? It was you got him his divorce?" Holcombe nodded. "Carroll was the man that made it possible, wasn't he?" Holcombe chafed under this catechism.
With this the young gentleman jumped lightly upon the workbench where he nursed his knees and smoked his pipe. He was a graceful person, trimly and delicately fashioned, and in this strange setting altogether inexplicable. But Dan's time was important, and he had not yet learned anything as to Edward G. Thatcher's whereabouts.
For the spirit of this and a more cultivated poetry of expression, I beg to refer the temperate reader to the 3d chapter of Job. The passengers knew Bill, and sat, conservative, patient, and expectant. As yet the cause of the catastrophe was not known. At last Thatcher's voice came from the box seat: "What's up, Bill?" "Not a blank lynch pin in the whole blank coach," was the answer.
Thatcher had built an expensive house, but fearing that the money her husband generously supplied was tainted by the remote beer vats, she and her two daughters spent most of their time in Europe, giving, however, as their reason the ill-health of Thatcher's son. Thatcher's income was large and he spent it in his own fashion.
Tom, The Ready; or, Up from the Lowest. By Randolph Hill. The Castaways; Or, On The Florida Reefs. By James Otis. Captain Kidd's Gold, The True Story of an Adventurous Sailor Boy. By James Franklin Fitts. Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By Horatio Alger, Jr. Lost In The Cañon. The Story of Sam Willett's Adventures on the Great Colorado of the West. By Alfred R. Calhoun. A Young Hero; or, Fighting to Win.
Judge Thatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked him ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he thought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said: "Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt. But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any more."
The Jago children, who snatched a fearful joy by stealing after dark into the unkempt garden and peering through the uncurtained lattice windows, reported that as the pair sat at table with the black bottle between them, the Thatcher's eyes would be drawn to fix themselves on the other's with a stealthy shrinking terror or, as they put it, "vicious when he wasna' lookin' and afeared when he was."
"Ye might open it in my presence," suggested Yuba Bill gravely. Thatcher, half laughingly, did so. It was full of papers and semi-legal-looking documents. Thatcher's own name on one of them caught his eye; he opened the paper hastily and perused it. The smile faded from his lips. "Well," said Yuba Bill, "suppose we call it a fair exchange at present." Thatcher was still examining the papers.
I might be weak and yielding upon every other question, never upon this. 'And now let me tell you about my friend Peter, Rebecca Thatcher's half-witted grandson. You know how painfully we were both struck by the poor fellow's listless hopeless manner when we were at the cottage on the moor.
He had personally projected Ramsay's name one night in the hope of breaking the Bassett phalanx, but the only result was to arouse Thatcher's wrath against him. Bassett's men believed in Bassett. The old superstition as to his invulnerability had never more thoroughly possessed the imaginations of his adherents.
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