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Reaching the cut Billy found the other shooters having some difficulty in getting their heavy skiff through the shallow and deceptive water, a feat which only one who was used to navigating could hope to accomplish successfully. At the same time he noted, with a start, that the men in the skiff were the mysterious drillers, Tom and Jack. "Why, I've got a hunch that somebody's layin' for you, that's all," answered Maurice. "'Course, I may be wrong. Am I?" Billy stood frowning. "Say, maybe Jacobs is the feller that fires the boilers that runs the windlass," he hazarded..

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Miss Lucy Acton sat with her eyes veiled by downcast lids fixed in a stare as lifeless as the dead upon her hands, which lay clasped in her lap. So motionless was she, you would have said she slept. Much of the lovely bloom that always gave to her lineaments a choice sweetness was absent, but not the less[Pg 281] did as much of her face as was visible express its refined and delicate beauty. "Yep, we could do that, I s'pose," said Billy, "only—" He frowned and shook his head. "I guess we best not ask either of 'em, Ma. Maurice might hear of it, an' wonder why he wa'n't asked too. He's awful funny that way, you know." "Oh, he'll soon get over it," laughed Billy. "We'll find him waitin' fer us farther on." The man with the brown wig peered with his head on one side at Mr Lawrence, as though Mr Short's toast conveyed a piece of news to him..