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Ringold nodded approval. "All right, Neighbor Watland. Anybody else got anythin' to say?","But will Mr Lawrence make for Rio," said Captain Weaver, "when he understands by the Aurora chasing that you have found out his port of destination?","And found me, Frank?",He bade her good-morning with profound respect. Her dog barked in his face, and she silenced it by lifting it under her arm.,"Yes, Ma'am; I mean jest that. You see, Ma, that ol' horse don't belong to Teacher Johnston any more. We bought him.",She spoke like a young wild-eyed prophetess; her tones had a vigorous, dramatic clearness which made her voice new to her father's ears. Her language, which seemed exalted beyond her age, beyond anything one would look for in the lips of so calm, modest, and undemonstrative a girl, she appeared to make peculiarly appropriate to her years and sex, by her delivery, her melodies of accentuation, the easy grasp with which, it was clear, she held a subject that was deep in human nature.,Another call from the mast-head, and yet another and another and another in brief[Pg 391] intervals of scarce half a minute's duration each; and at last fourteen sail were reported in sight on the starboard bow, sailing large, heading north-east or thereabouts so that the course of the Aurora would bring her into the thick of them.,"Well, he should have, but I didn't let him. I thought I'd like to own a snake as plucky as that, so I caught him—didn't have no trouble, he was awful tired—an' brought him up here to the menagerie.","Well!" exclaimed Mr Lawrence, eyeing him with that sort of regard with which one views some hairy, human-like importation of the likeness of a man, and perhaps better looking than some men, from an Indian or South American forest.,"Well, fer the land sakes alive, Maurice!" she cried. "It is good to see you up ag'in. You've had a hard pull of it, poor lad. Dear heart! but it's thinned you a lot, too! Think of any mortal boy changin' so in two short weeks.",Nobody stood. Anson was on the point of jumping to his feet and telling who had brought the sulphur into the room but, on second thought, sat still. The teacher had asked who had put it in the stove. Certainly it had not been Fatty Watland, because he had gone on an errand for the teacher long before the fire was started.,The deacon, a florid, full-whiskered man of about sixty, glowered about him. No one present thought of disputing his assertion. The deacon was a power in the community..