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Updated: June 6, 2025
But I forgot all this directly, as I stepped out, where I found Lomax standing up as stiff as a ramrod, and with a walking cane thrust under his arms and behind his back, trussing him like a chicken, so as to throw out his chest. He saluted me in military fashion. "Mornin', sir. Your trooper's waiting. Looks a nice, clever little fellow." "Trooper?" I faltered in a disappointed tone.
"It's someone else." "Faith, then, who?" was the query. "Morrison," snapped Dudley, with an ominous click of his teeth. "The Colonel? Why?" "Because he helped this spy escape! that's why. He killed my brother, shot him. Shot him down like a dog. But now I'm even with him." He shook the pass under the trooper's nose and crowed with satisfaction.
She lay then with her water-line a foot deeper than anybody around there ever remembered seeing her in her swell passenger days; then she shoved out into the stream and kicked her way down the harbor, and as she did so, though there was not a single trooper's head showing above her rail, everybody seemed to know.
"All is soon told, sir," replied Edward, taking off his iron skull- cap, and allowing his hair to fall down on his shoulders. He then, in a few words, stated what had happened, and by what means he had escaped, and the reason why he had kept on the trooper's accouterments, and made his appearance in them.
"Look here, Christine," cried Marmaduke, winking solemnly at her, "you're goin' to get your neck broke one o' these days, drivin' that mare, with the road full o' cars. What does John mean lettin' you?" "Dolly!" cried Christina in amazement, "why she wouldn't " she caught a frantic warning wink from Trooper's dancing eyes and paused.
But you are too good to him, he is one of the very worst of my pratiques; and you are as cruel to me in refusing to deign to accept my trooper's worthless bagatelles at my hands."
At the same time, Symonds, who had hold of the trooper's bridle, was lifted off his feet by the sudden rearing of the horse, and before he had collected his wits, he was dashed violently to one side and thrown on the icy ground.
Over his red flannel shirt he wore a tunic or blouse, also of buckskin, fringed the length of the arms, and belted at the waist like a hunting-shirt. A vest no longer concealed his revolvers; his weapons were at his side, like a trooper's. In one gauntleted hand, he held a wide, grey hat. "You want to see me, Cap'n?" he asked, meeting that officer's look squarely. "Yes," answered Oliver, shortly.
"You see " said the man who was telling them about it, "you see, he may get the niggers easy and bring them in at once. Or they may clear out and make him chase them for days and days. He'll get them in the end, though, you bet. Old Scotty's not the one to be beaten by niggers." The boys sat down outside the trooper's house on a little hill and looked over the desolate landscape.
"I kept them away because you would have given me a hundred piasters for what had not been worth one. As for her eyes, they are stars that shine on another world than an African trooper's. So best!"
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