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Updated: May 25, 2025
I rather guess I must a took a little too much at Welch's grocery, and laid down in the middle of the street to rest. The boys thought 'twas funny to crate me. I woke up kind o' cold, 'bout one in the mornin. 'Bout two o'clock I come up Means's hill, and didn't I see Pete Jones, and them others that robbed the Dutchman, and somebody, I dunno who, a-crossin' the blue-grass paster towards Jones's?"
Welch knew what he was talking about when he said he saw Whiteman to-day. I heard horses that was the noise. I am going down to Welch's, right away." They left and I was glad. I did not care whither they went, so they went. I was willing they should visit Welch, and the sooner the better.
"Let me go, Hutton," said Welch quietly. "You can't hold me here." Jerry tried to answer, but the pressure against his chest was too severe. His left hand began to slip from Welch's wrist; the fingers wouldn't hold; there was a strange numbness from hand to shoulder. With a smothered groan he tried to tighten his clasp again. Then help came.
"Yes," said Riddell; "or, rather, I suggested it to them." "You did! All I can say is, it's like your impudence. Welch's is come to a pretty pass if you're sent here to look after our athletics." Riddell did not feel called upon to reply to this, and Silk therefore continued, "Don't you know Tucker and I have been captains of the clubs here for the last two years?" "I was told so."
"We aren't going to have a fellow put over our heads against our will at any rate, not without having a word in the matter." "What can you do?" asked Coates. "We can resign, I suppose?" said Tucker. "Oh, yes!" said Crossfield. "And suppose Paddy took you at your word, my boy? Sad thing for Welch's that would be!"
Like Jack Welch's disappearance, this departure was unexplained, and in time he was given up for dead. Twenty years had passed, when Wright's presumptive widow was startled by the receipt of a letter in a weak, trembling hand, signed with her husband's name. It was written on his death-bed, in a distant place, and held a confession.
"All very well," said Tucker, of Welch's, "but it's a precious odd thing, all the same, that the captain is always picked out of the schoolhouse." "And it's a precious odd thing too," chimed in Crossfield, "that a head classic was never to be got out of Welch's for love or money!" This turned the laugh against the unlucky Tucker, who was notoriously a long way off being head classic.
I've a good mind to cut the whole concern." In this, however, he was mistaken. The two monitors were Gilks of the schoolhouse and Silk of Welch's, who were taking the air this hot summer evening, and thinking and talking of anything but Master Telson. "I tell you," said Gilks, "I detest the fellow." "You detest such a lot of fellows, Gilks," said Silk.
The boys stared as if they were not quite sure yet how to take it. However, the captain made himself clear without further delay. "The fact is," said he, a trifle nervously, but in his friendliest tones "the fact is I don't know what you think, but I'd be awfully glad if you fellows would back me up for a week or two in Welch's.
"We must bury him, but we mean to cure you." They obeyed Welch's instructions, and so crept on all night; and, so well had this able seaman calculated distance and rate of sailing, that, when the sun rose, sure enough there was an island under their lee, distant about a league, though it looked much less. But the palm-tree was more than twice that distance.
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