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That night when Mrs. Bennett went into the Fo’castle there was an unusual note in Billy’s voice. Billy slipped quickly to cover again where he could watch unseen. The men’s faces were black with passion, and their low, intense words seemed all the more deadly because strange, foreign. A coat split down the back with a ripping report, and the boy saw the flash of a knife, and turned away feeling sick. “Not a bit!” His words were strangely impatient. “I’ve got to find her!” He started past them..

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“Yes, Mosey, I jist want to go to my mornin’-glory garding to tell it good-night.” She rubbed her sleepy tear-stained eyes. He saw the men stop, draw apart, and look around. They discovered no one, but delayed their quarrel and hurried in the direction of the sound, exchanging short angry speeches as they ran. “Any one else?” “An’ where did you hear it, my dear?” she queried, cautiously feeling her way..