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A mile or two down the creek the searching party sought diligently for the little lost boy. Moses was in the lead. He had announced his adamant resolve to find St. Elmo, or perform the irrevocable feat of “bustin’.” He cherished an idea of his own as to the child’s whereabouts. A few weeks previously, on an all-day excursion, Moses had played pirates with St. Elmo and they had utilized a most delectable earthy cave for their game. He had not gone far when Moses caught up to him, “Please, Mister, here is three buttings orff yer vest, I guess.” His hilarity was not under strict control and again he broke into uproarious laughter. “Oh, no; she must be Jean.”.
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“Just like a football champion,” Billy interrupted. “I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.” “Here Mosey,” said Betty, “is a tin crown. You can fasten it on with this wire. See?” “Yes; he’d lick him too, if Flash wasn’t Tom’s body-guard.”.
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