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"Hully gee! ol' feller, look!" Maurice extracted the wand and held it up before the animal's gaze. "Oh, don't put your ears back an' grin at me. I ain't goin' to use it on you," laughed the lad. "Look! This is what I'm goin' to do with that ol' bruiser's pointer." From a trouser's pocket he extracted a jackknife. "Now horsie, jest you watch me close. The next time he makes a cut at you he's goin' to get the surprise of his life. There, see? I've cut it through. Now I'll jest rub on some of this here clay to hide the cut. There you be! If I know anythin' 'bout seasoned hickory that pointer's goin' to split into needles right in his hand. I hope they go through his ol' fist and clinch on t'other side." Jim Scroggie entered the school yard with his sister by his side. He paused a moment to let his eyes stray to the faces of the three hopefuls on the fence, conjecturing with a boy's intuition that in this trio he saw some of the ring-leaders of the school. Jim wore a smart tweed coat and knickerbockers, and a shirt of grey flannel with a soft silk tie. His sister, Lou, was dressed daintily in white, with soft blue collar that matched the glorious depths of her eyes. She smiled now, and the three on the fence immediately underwent a change of heart. Elgin Scraff was the first to slide down and approach the new boy in a spirit of fellowship. Harry chuckled. "Faith, ut's crazy he thought I was I guess," he cried. "'Ould man,' sez he, 'somebody has been playin' a trick on ye. I know no such place as Gibson's Grove.' Thin begobs! he laughed, like he saw the humor av ut, and had me sate meself in the shade and smoke a cigar while I risted. So I'm thinkin', byes, them min jest wanted to get rid av me the while they ransacked me house and belongin's, bad cess to 'em!".

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Mr Lawrence walked to "The Swan." The entrance was under a covered way into which the stage coach drove for baiting. Mr Lawrence walked into the bar and observed a letter fixed in a frame of red tape stretched across a board covered with green baize. As he was in the habit of receiving letters at this house he looked at this one and saw that it was addressed to him. He pulled it out of its mesh of tape, and addressing a middle-aged, comely woman who sat in the window in[Pg 122] the bar where she supplied lookers-in with pots of frothing beer, or directed them to such parts of the house as they desired to visit, he asked when that letter had been left, and was answered that the letter carrier had brought it in about two hours before. "I expect the frigate that chased her will be one of the Western squadron," said Captain Acton. "How finely those ships are doing their work! Since they've been sweeping these waters scarce a French picaroon dare put his nose out; when before, the seas swarmed like a tropic calm with bristling fins of sharks." A footman entered. Wilson whistled. "What in the world does he want with that swamp, I wonder?" he cried..