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"Croaker," he addressed the bird, "you must'a found ol' Scroggie's gold. He had the only gold money this country ever saw, so you must have found it some way. I don't s'pose it'll do Teacher Stanhope any good, 'cause it'll go to Jim Scroggie's father, but, Croaker, it's up to us to get that money an' turn it over; hear me?" Mrs. Wilson stood with frowning gaze fastened on the door. She was a tall, angular woman of some forty years, heavy of features, as she was when occasion demanded it, heavy of hand. Tiny fret-lines marred a face which under less trying conditions of life might have been winsome, but tonight the lips of the generous mouth were tightly compressed and the rise and fall of the bosom beneath the low cut flannel gown hinted of a volcano that would ere long erupt to the confusion of somebody. "Be here," said he, "on Saturday next. It may be that I'll give you the berth. No more words. Off with you!".
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"Naw, can't you see if we told our dads that, they'd want 'a know what you an' me was doin' out in Scroggie's bush in the rain, at that hour of the night? No siree, we won't say a word 'bout it." "Yep, but one dived an' is gettin' away. After him, Moll." The spaniel, with a joyful whine, cleared the rush wall and splashed into the water. "Fine!" cried Billy, as he reloaded, "Moll's goin' to bring him in." "Surely," she said, "they are not as ferocious as they are said to be?" "And warm, I'll bet.".
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