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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"


"Yes, help."
"You was licked 'fore I had time."
"Didn't dast--that's what's the matter--didn't dast," said big Joe,
with a tone of irreparable injury.
"Wouldn't 'a' been nigh ye fer a millyun dollars," said Tom,
soberly.
"Why not?"
"'Twant safe; that's why."
"'Fraid o' him! ye coward!"
"No; 'fraid o' you."
"Why?"
"'Cos if one o' yer feet had hit a feller when ye come up ag'in
that wall," Tom answered slowly, "there wouldn't 'a' been nuthin'
left uv him."
All laughed loudly.
Then there was another silence. Joe broke it after a moment of
deep thought.
"Like t' know how he seen me," said he.
"'Tis cur'us," said another.
"Guess he's one o' them preformers like they have at the circus--"
was the opinion of Sam Beach. "See one take a pig out o' his hat
las' summer."
"'Tain't fair 'n' square," said Tom Linley; "not jest eggzac'ly."
"Gosh! B'lieve I'll run away," said Joe, after a pause. "Ain' no
fun here for me."
"Better not," said Archer Town; "not if ye know when yer well off."
"Why not?"
"Wal, he'd see ye wherever ye was an' do suthin' to ye," said
Archer. "Prob'ly he's heard all we been sayin' here."
"Wal, I ain't said nuthin' I'm 'shamed of," said Sam Beach,
thoughtfully.


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