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Updated: May 19, 2025
"We can't be far from it now," said Dr Hayward, as the men ceased rowing, and the boat glided slowly, silently along. "It's a gruesome place," remarked Black Ned, in a low voice. "To think that so many lives were lost here or hereabouts," murmured Tomlin. "An' their ghost, maybe, hangin' about!" suggested Slag, with a superstitious glance over his shoulder.
I know now," was the downcast reply. "Twelve hours ago I thought differently. Didn't I, Mr. Tomlin?" Tomlin tried hard to look knowing. "Oh, is that wot you wur drivin' at?" he said. "Dang me, mister, I could soon ha' put you right 'ad you tole me." "Well, well. Can't be helped. I may do better in London. What do you say, Mr. Ingerman? The City is the real mint of money and crime.
In acknowledging the receipt of a letter concerning this book from Mr. John Tomlin, an American, he wrote: “I thank you cordially and heartily for your letter, and for its kind and courteous terms.
The big man registered as "Mr. W. Franklin, Argentina." Peters ordered a chop, and went off at once to interview the local policeman. Mr. Franklin took more pains over the prospective meal. "Have you a nice chicken?" he inquired. Yes, Mr. Tomlin had a veritable spring chicken in the larder at that moment. "And do you think your cook could provide a tourne-dos?" "A what-a, sir?" wheezed Tomlin.
Tomlin looked up with a snarl of baffled rage, expecting swift reprisal for his treacherous attempt. Gone was the last vestige of civilization from his face; greed of gold, jewel-hunger, blood-lust, all played about his reddened eyes and cruel, down-drawn mouth. The primitive came through the veneer of culture and showed him the man he really was.
"Sure we have, sor, an' it's a tin wan as'll stand fire," returned Terrence with a reproved look. "Well, then, you go fetch it; wash it well out, and get the pork ready. Jarring and Tomlin will gather as much dead wood as they can find and pile it beside the fire.
"If not here, where shall ye find such a one as my mistress?" Pascherette retorted saucily. "Your mistress?" "Without doubt. I am but a slave, my lady is the queen, Dolores." "A queen a white woman?" stammered Venner. "Oh, Venner, let us look into this!" exclaimed Pearse with unconcealed curiosity. "Just what we have prayed for!" Tomlin supplemented eagerly. "Anchor, Venner, like a good fellow.
With feelings of profound interest, they entered for there was no door to bar their progress and gazed around on the silent, mouldering walls. "Good luck!" exclaimed O'Connor, springing forward, and grasping an object which lay on the ground. It was a hatchet, covered with red rust. "Here is something else that will be useful," said Tomlin, picking up a file, which was also covered with rust.
Craik Tomlin glared at both, yet his gaze seemed hard to restrain from wandering around the gorgeous chamber, whose wealth he saw now for the first time. Venner, too, had been seized by the jewel-hunger, although neither he, nor Tomlin, guessed at the immensely greater wealth that had been revealed to Pearse.
Elkin nudged Tomlin, and sniggered at the rest of his colleagues, as much as to say: "What did I tell you? The cheek of him!" Elkin, by the way, looked ill. When his interest flagged for an instant his haggard aspect became more noticeable. Ingerman was there, of course. Furneaux sat beside Mr. Fowler. A stranger, whom Grant did not recognize, proved to be the County Chief Constable.
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