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Just about this time the steward Paul came down the companion steps with the cabin key which he had received from Mr Lawrence. He took no notice of the two men seated at the table, but stepped to Lucy's door, knocked, paused, inserted the key, and passed in. He emerged in less than two minutes holding the tray that was covered literally with broken victuals, and locking the door was about to step up the companion ladder when Mr Pledge said: "Who've you got locked up in that there cabin?" "You don't tell me, Willium! Why then, salts is jest what he needs. I'll wake him up an' give 'em to him." "And for a very good reason, by George," cried Maddoc. "How could it be found when it lay safely locked in a deposit box in my vault?".
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Conrad
"Oh Hully Gee!" yelled Jim Scroggie, "Wasn't that corkin'—Oh Mommer! An' what did you an' Maurice do with the weasels?" "Know him?" O'Dule had cut a window in the cabin, installed an old stove, table and chairs, and succeeded in making the place home-like enough to suit his simple taste. To-night he stood by the stove, frying potatoes and humming an Irish song. On the table lay a loaf of bread and some butter in a saucer, while close beside it a coal oil lamp gave a smoky light to the room. In the center of the table reposed a huge blue-grey cat, its amber eyes on Harry and its forepaws curled contentedly beneath its furry breast. All about the room hung the skins of wild animals—deer, bear, lynx and coon. A pile of skins lay in one corner. This was O'Dule's bed. "An' when'll that be, Harry?".
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