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“Shade of Beelzebub! Where did you spring from?” shouted the astonished man. “Why, you see,” Billy hesitated, for he was modest, “sister has a class of us heathen boys, and—well, you see, it’s this way; sister says,—she’s partial, you know,—she says I have influence; if I don’t giggle the others won’t, and she gets on O. K.” His boyish knowledge and imagination, equal to many pictures of danger for the girl, did not extend to her captors. He never stopped to consider, nor would he have understood if he had, the plight of the criminals. He knew that two had been captured, one of whom before that had carried off May Nell; but his small newspaper reading of “gangs” of counterfeiters had given him visions of dozens of desperate criminals, terrorizing communities, and equal to any bold crime. Now in his mind’s eye he could see men skulking in the brush, listening in rooms below, only waiting to pounce on May Nell the moment she smashed the window. Oh, yes, he must hurry—hurry!.
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Conrad
“Murder! Murder!” he shouted with all his strength; and his boy’s voice reached far up and down the lonely distances. “Oh, Betty,” he begged, “Pease dive me some.” “There’s a better way,” Billy called, when the deputy leading started to climb back as he had come. “Follow the creek; there’s a trail.” “The darned old robber!” Billy started up and walked restlessly toward the door..
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