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"Leg nuthin'!" Billy removed his hand from his trousers-pocket and waved something before two pairs of fear-widened eyes. "Hello," Anson accosted. "Goin' to school?" Moll wagged her short tail gleefully..

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"No." The man's answer was nothing more than a spiritless murmur. Maddoc, he knew, had his record and had spoken truly when he said he had the goods on him. "No," he repeated with a shudder. He patted the horse's thin neck. "Come, ol' feller, I'll stuff you with good oats fer once," he promised. Mrs. Keeler, who was doing her best to catch what her neighbor was saying, lifted her head as the two wet and tired boys entered the room. Billy sighed his relief. "Gee, but it's lucky you did," he cried. "That's the very thing Trigger Finger Tim would'a done, ain't it, Maurice?".