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Updated: June 25, 2025
Nobody ever comes down into these waters. Ye couldn't pick no course here. Everything leads to nowhere." "Might as well be in a bally balloon," said Strokher. I shall not tell of the nature of the venture on which the Glarus was bound, further than to say it was not legitimate. It had to do with an ill thing done more than two centuries ago.
"'I fights at a hunder and seventy, says Strokher. "'An' me, says Hardenberg, 'at a hunder an' seventy-five. We're matched. "'Is it a go? inquires Strokher. "'You bet your great-gran'mammy's tortis-shell chessy cat it's a go, says Hardenberg, prompt as a hop-frog catching flies. "We don't lose no time trying to reason with 'em, for they is sure keen on havin' the go.
S'y, I gotta to get drunk. S'y, what-all's the first jump in the bally game now?" "Well, the first thing, little man," observed Hardenberg, "is for your mother's son to hang the monkey onto the safety-valve. Keep y'r steam and watch y'r uncle." "Scrag the Boomskys," said Slick Dick encouragingly. Strokher pulled the left end of his viking mustache with the fingers of his right hand.
"An' Strokher answers up: "'Hardie, I loves you better'n ever. You'se the first man I've met up with which I couldn't do for an' I've met up with some scraggy propositions in my time, too. "Well, they two is a sorry-lookin' pair o' birds by the time we runs into San Diego harbour next night. They was fine lookin' objects for fair, all bruises and bumps.
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