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Updated: May 31, 2025
"The idea!" whispered Edith Whalen to the girl ahead of her. "How beautifully they shield her!" "They would!" agreed Vivian Long. "It does seem as if Bet Baxter and her crowd can do anything they like." "I never did believe Kit did it," said little Annie Randall, a meek timid child who rarely took a stand in anything. "What do you know about it?" asked Edith contemptuously.
Besides, he had grown strangely uncertain in his temper of late, and, as Barry Whalen had said, "It isn't good to trouble a wounded bull in the ring." They had him on the hip in one way through the exposure of Krool, but they were all more or less dependent on his financial movements. They were all enraged at Byng because he had disregarded all warnings regarding Krool; but what could they do?
Barry Whalen lifted up his head and drew him back into the chair, then three of them lifted him upon a sofa. Barry's hand felt the breast of the prostrate figure, and Byng's fingers sought his wrist. For a moment there was a dreadful silence, and then Byng and Whalen looked at each other and nodded. "Brandy!" said Byng, peremptorily. "He's not dead?" whispered some one.
'Oh, isn't it a pretty dish to set before the king! What else, Krool?" "Nothing, Baas." "Nothing more in the cables?" "No, Baas." "That will do, Krool. Wait. Go to Mr. Whalen. Say I want him to bring a stenographer and all the Partners he'll understand to me at ten to-night." "Yes, Baas." Krool bowed slowly. As he raised his head his eyes caught those of Jasmine.
"Well her taste isn't to be imitated. I think she's horrid." "Why Edith Whalen, how can you say a thing like that? We all think Kit is so pretty and sweet. And she's very clever!" exclaimed Shirley Williams, coming to the defense of her chum. "But who is she? The daughter of a cowboy or a miner! She's just common white trash!" Bet was coming toward Edith, her eyes blazing.
The chance to do this thing was the reward he received for his gallant and very useful fight at Wortmann's Drift twenty-four hours before. It would not do to fail in justifying the choice of the Master Player, who had had enough bad luck in the campaign so far. The first of his force to salute him in the darkness was his next in command, Barry Whalen.
If he saw, there'd be hell at least," replied Barry Whalen, scornfully. "He's as blind as a bat," sighed Fleming. "He got into the wrong garden and picked the wrong flower wrong for him," said another voice. "A passion-flower, not the flower her name is," added De Lancy Scovel, with a reflective cynicism. "They they there's no doubt about it she's throwing herself away.
All Byng's rage came back, the lacerated pride, the offended manhood, the self-esteem which had been spattered by the mud of slander, by the cynical defense, or the pitying solicitude of his friends of De Lancy Scovel, Barry Whalen, Sobieski the Polish Jew, Fleming, Wolff, and the rest.
The prisoner, who realized that he could not twist himself away from the strong clutch of the policeman, scowled at Dick as the young woman thanked him. A crowd formed in an instant, but Whalen broke up the excitement by starting promptly along with his captive. Dick & Co. turned and followed a little way. The crowd that kept in the wake of the policeman was soon a dense one.
There was no trick of the veldschoen copper for which they were not ready; and for any device of Kruger's lambs they were prepared to go one better. As Barry Whalen had said, "They'll have to get up early in the morning if they want to catch us."
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