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"You shet right up, Tom!" commanded his wife. "Ain't it nuthin' to you that your son grows up wild and uneddicated?" "No, sir. At least not at once." "I regret to have to say it," said Miss Acton, "but I must think—I cannot help it, that Mr Lawrence's hand is in this strange disappearance of my niece.".

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"I asked her if she'd have some fruit pie or cake. She didn't look up nor answer. She's chucked most of what I took in about the cabin." Billy had not only accommodated the trouble-seekers in this regard but had nearly knocked the noses off their freckled faces as well, after which he had proceeded to lick, on sight, each and every Sand-sharker with whom his lonely rambles brought him in contact. But his victories lacked the old time zest. He missed Maurice's "Gee! Bill, that left swing to his eye was a corker"; missed Elgin's offer to bet a thousand dollars that Billy Wilson could lick, with one hand tied behind him, any two Sand-sharkers that ever smelled a smoked herrin'. Victory was indeed empty of glory. And so the glad days were sad days for Billy. It was an empty world. What boy in Billy's place would not have been low-spirited under like conditions? What boy would not have paused, as he was doing now, to itemize his woes? About this time the breeze began to freshen. The horizon slightly thickened with some windy change in the atmosphere and with the shadow of the evening. The Minorca under all plain sail heeled into the white smother of spume alongside, and as she sprang crushed the surge with her round weather-bow till the bright brine sometimes leapt like a fountain athwart the forecastle. Mr Lawrence watched her behaviour with attention, and often sent a look at the creaming road of wake which was so brilliant and long that, as the shadow deepened, the tail of it was lost to view. "You throwed somethin' at the ghost afore you howled an' run," Fatty stated. "Maybe it was the rabbit foot?".