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"No one can say we are not in time," says Jack, gayly. "It is exactly"—examining closely the ormolu-clock upon the mantelpiece—"one hour before we can reasonably expect dinner.","No, it didn't: it made it all wrong. But for that lie we should not be in the predicament in which we now find ourselves. You will understand me better when I tell you that the other day a young man turned up who declares himself to be my uncle George's son, and heir to his land and title. That was a blow. And, as this wretched will is not forthcoming, I fear he will inherit everything. We are disputing it, of course, and are looking high and low for the missing will that should have been sought for at the first. But it's very shaky the whole affair.",When they grew to be twelve or fifteen years old they began to do better, for now they could do more and more for themselves. They herded horses and performed small services for the wealthy men; then, too, they hunted and killed a little meat. Now, for their work, three or four dogs were given them, so with the two the old woman owned, they were able to pack their small lodge and other possessions when the camp moved, instead of carrying everything on their backs.,"I for one should not need to meet Lord Nelson and hear him speak of your son to fully agree in what you say, Sir William," said Lucy.,"All right then, Croaker, I'll call Ringdo, an' feed him your dinner.","Well, just then it made little difference to us, as, shortly after my grandfather went off the hooks, we received what we believed to be authenticated tidings of my uncle's death.",The door of the room she is approaching is wide open, and inside, as Mona draws nearer, it becomes apparent that some one is talking very loudly, and with much emphasis, and as though determined not to be silenced. Argument is plainly the order of the hour.,That evening, as he drove the cattle down along the Causeway for water he met two teams of horses hauling loads of greasy-looking timbers and black, oily pipes. The men who drove the teams were strangers to him. Scroggie, or Heir Scroggie, as he was now commonly called in the neighborhood, sat beside the driver of one of the wagons.,Sir Nicholas is there, silent, but angry, as Violet knows by the frown upon his brow. With his mother he never quarrels, merely expressing disapproval by such signs as an unwillingness to speak, and a stern grave line that grows upon his lips.,"Jolly old bore!" says Captain Rodney, though not unkindly.,"No," said Hinter, startled at the directness of look and question. "I don't know.",“We’ll have to feel our way through,” said Bob. “Lie low until we get in and then try to catch hold of the roof. We don’t want to go through too fast.”.