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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"

"Who's a-talkin' of any such thing?"
"I was putting a case, sir--putting it as bad as possible.
'Murder will out,' they say; but with smaller crimes it may be
different."
"Murder?" He sprang up and began to pace to and fro. "How came that
in your head, eh?" He threw me a furtive sidelong look, and halted
before me mopping his forehead. "I'll tell you what, though: Murder
there'll be if you don't help me give that devil the slip."
"But, sir, he never offered to follow you."
"Because he reckoned I couldn' run--or wouldn', as I've never run
from him yet. But with you in the secret I must give him leg-bail,
no matter what it costs me. And, see here, Brooks: you're clever for
your age, an' I want your advice. In the first place, I daren't go
home; that's where he'll be watchin' for me sooner or later. Next,
our plans ain't laid for startin' straight off--here as we be--an'
givin' him the go-by. Third an' last, I daren't go carryin' the
secret about with me; he might happen on me any moment, an' I'm not
in trainin'. The drink's done for me, boy, whereas _he_'ve been
farin' hard an' livin' clean." Captain Coffin, with his hands deep
in his pockets, stared down at the transport at anchor below, and
bent his brows.


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