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"Fish ought'a bite fine today," said Maurice as he stowed the cookies away in his bosom. His mind traveled at once to Anse. So that meddler had been here and tried to let his pets free, had he? Apparently the chump didn't know they each had a separate cage, or if he did he hadn't the nerve to open it. Well, it meant that Anse had that much more to settle for with him, that was all! "Shut up!" Billy commanded. "Do you want them Sand-sharks to hear you? You keep still now, I'm goin' after our punt.".
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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?" Billy had thrown off his shooting-coat and was climbing out of the blind. He bade her good-morning with profound respect. Her dog barked in his face, and she silenced it by lifting it under her arm. Harry lifted the little tin box to his knees and opened it. From it he brought forth a conglomeration of articles. There were queer little disks of hammered brass and copper, an egg-shaped object that sparkled like crystal in the lamplight, a crotch-shaped branch of a tree. As he handled those objects tenderly the old man's face was tense and he mumbled something entirely meaningless to the watchers. Finally, with an exclamation of triumph, he brought forth a piece of metal the size and shape of an ordinary lead pencil..
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