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She simmered down a bit, I under stand, after her first wild splurge. But she was very folksy all through his stay, insisted that Waddy was her heroic deliverer, and all that sort of thing. "Of course," says Waddy, "I tried to tell her that I'd had very little to do personally with smashing the Hindenburg line. But she wouldn't listen to a word. Besides, my French was rather lame.
Waddy's saying, 'Here, Master Harry, your own papa will come for you; and you may be sure he will, for I have his word he will, and he's not one to break it, unless his country's against him; and for his darling boy he'd march against cannons. So here you'll sit and wait for him, won't you? I sat down immediately, looking up. Mrs. Waddy and Mrs. Thresher raised their hands.
"If you didn't it must have been an oversight," says Mr. Robert. "Suppose we admit that you did." "Well, what do you think?" goes on Waddy, "She is here!" "Eh?" says Mr. Robert, glancin' around nervous. "Why the deuce do you bring her here?" "No, no, my dear chap!" protests Waddy. "In this country, I mean." "Oh!" and Mr. Robert sighs relieved.
"I remember," says I. "You side-tracked the lovely Marcelle for that little blonde from. Richmond, didn't you?" "A mere passing fancy," says Waddy, flushin' up. "Nothing serious. She was really engaged all the time to Bent Hawley. They're to be married next month, I hear. But Marcelle! She has come.
If towards the grass-paddock or the dam, she was off helter-skelter. If it was n't, she'd go on strike put her head down and chew the bit. Then, when you'd get to work on her with a waddy which we always did she'd walk backwards into the house and frighten Mother, or into the waterhole and dirty the water. Dad said it was the fault of the cove who broke her in. Dad was a just man.
'Toe the scratch, men! yelled Peterson; and the defenders of Waddy climbed out of the holes and presently turned a solid front to the enemy.
In one rapid flash of intelligence she had seen that, whatever happened, she could never get that five hundred pounds down. And to surrender to old Waddy without it, to surrender to old Waddy at all, when she could marry Freddy Markham, would be too preposterous. Even if there hadn't been any Freddy Markham, it would have been preposterous.
In point of fact she was the woman who had driven through Waddy on the day after the goat raid, calling down infamy on the township. 'Bail up! cried Red Hand. Phil, Ted, and Peterson rode up in front, barring the way. Red Hand and Fork Lightning approached from either side, and all presented pistols.
On the level behind the entrenched army the women of Waddy and their families were picknicking gaily on the grass, for it was accepted as a great gala day in the township, and flags of all shapes and colours, devised from all kinds of discarded garments, fluttered from tree-tops, chimneys, posts, clothes-props, and any other eminence to which a streamer could be fastened.
"Four years ago the creek came in on us," says Llanders, "flooded us to within ten feet of the shaft mouth. We lost only a dozen men, but it was two years before we had the lower levels clear. We manage to keep it down now with the pumps, Bruzinski is most likely at the further end of the lowest level." "Is he?" says Waddy. "I must see him, you know."
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