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"Certainly; it's young Billy Wilson. You know—the lad who is always roaming the woods." "Sure there might but I guess all we kin do is take our chance with 'em." "Yep, that's so. But how?".
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Conrad
Hinter shook his head. "Nobody would have them, they're too savage; and I haven't the heart to make away with them, because they are fond of me. I've had those dogs a long time, Billy." "I should be much obliged for a cask of beef, sir," he said, after touching the narrow penthouse of a queerly constructed fur cap. "It's still a long way home for that there Louisa Ann, whose bin a hundred and seventy days in bringing us so fur." "Umph! I'm not so green as I look. I know whose they be. They're Ann's." Frank lifted a wan face. "You mean——?" his dry lips formed the words..
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