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Updated: June 26, 2025
It's come to them recent just what a bad lot Lang is. It's hell what a whisper can do." "It is when that whisper is backed by a thousand-dollar reward," Carson agreed. "If he really pays up it'll wreck Lang's little snap for sure." Brill dabbed his cloth at an imaginary spot on the polished slab and nodded without comment.
"Stick by me. I have a rope and I know how to throw it, J. Elfreda dear," replied Grace Harlowe laughingly. "Turn out!" It was Hi Lang's voice that summoned the girls from their tents, and a far from welcome summons it was, for they were sleeping soundly. "Lieutenant, the ponies are saddled and ready," said the guide, halting at Hippy's tent.
She came alongside, and Herndon quickly seized a rope, fastened it to the rail, and let himself down to the deck of the cutter. Kennedy and I followed. "This is a high-handed proceeding," I heard a voice that must have been Lang's protesting. "By what right do you stop me? You shall suffer for this."
As Dunois accompanied the demand by a threat to kill the English prisoners in Orleans if the herald was not sent back, the request was at once accorded, with fierce defiances to the Maid, the dairy-maid as she is called, bidding her go back to her cows, and threatening to burn her if they caught her. I avail myself here as elsewhere of Mr. Lang's lucid description.
The other fishermen looked at one another and listened for Bill Lang's girl to go on: "You fellows all know the advantage it gives you to have enough boats and men. If you break down and get into any trouble, it's pretty good to have somebody standing by to give you a hand. And you know that Mascola knows how to make trouble."
But when questioned concerning the specific nature of his scoop, Hawkins became extremely reticent. Dickie Lang's report upon the condition of the fishing-boats added materially to the cost of the victory. Four of the craft had been jammed in the mêlée and were leaking badly. How they ever made port at all was a thing she could not understand.
But all was dark and silent out at Bill Lang's store. After their return from Agua Fria, the rescuing party, Jim Galway leading, had attended to another matter. The remnants of Pete Leddy's gang, far from offering any resistance, explained that they had business elsewhere which admitted of no delay. There was peace in the valley of Little Rivers.
She could not carry all up at once, so she took the tray first, then came back for the teapot and kettle. A second chair was got from Mrs. Lang's bedroom, and then the sociable little meal was begun. It did not last long, but half-an-hour, at the longest. Yet it was one of those bright little spots which linger long in the memory and make one glad, though sometimes sad, to look back upon.
This house is mine, and I am master here, and mistress too," she answered coldly but firmly; "and if I did want another lodger, I shouldn't take a friend of yours; I am going to keep my house respectable, as far as I can or give it up." Harry Lang's voice completely failed him, and he sat silently staring at his wife in wide-eyed amazement.
Is it not rather wonderful that it should make any progress at all? Against one of these missions Dr. Lang gives a sneer, and it may be a deserved one, though certainly expressed in unbecoming language; but the attentive reader of Dr. Lang's amusing work on New South Wales will soon learn not to place too much stress upon all he says. See Lang's New South Wales, vol. ii. chap. 7, p. 313.
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