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"Jest a minute, young man." Caleb's voice was stern. "I see you've cut your own and your best gal's initials onto my new bench. Did you have much trouble doin' it, might I ask?",

Mrs. Keeler edged forward distrustfully. "What's that he says he's goin' to do in two weeks?" she asked, suspicion in her tones. "Cause if you think, young man, you be goin' to go in swimmin' ag'in, inside two weeks—" she pointedly addressed Maurice, "you got another think comin'. I'm goin' to see that you don't suffer no re-lapse.",

The teacher followed his host, gingerly rubbing the knuckles which had been left blue by the farmer's strong grip.,

The deacon was curious to learn what caused that smell. He approached a little closer to the walls and scrutinized the ground carefully. It was stained with black patches of something and he saw that the planks of the wall and the portion of the derrick showing above it also were stained a greenish-black. He ran a finger over a greasy splash and sniffed. Then he backed away slowly, now nodding his head. He knew what had happened, just as well as though he had seen it. The careless drillers had exploded a barrel of coal-oil, and perhaps wrecked the drill. Yes, nothing surer. That had been the explosion which shook the windows of his home and awoke him several nights ago. Keeler and Wilson had heard it too. Well, it was too bad after all the trouble and expense Scroggie had gone to to find water for the Settlement.

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"Both trust me," said Jacobs simply and Maddoc knew that he spoke the truth. He strode across and put his hands on the shoulders of the man from whom he had wrung confession.,

He came from the kitchen garden and was standing in the middle of the lawn, where he obtained a view of the sea betwixt the bluff on which stood the windmill and the other bluff on which stood the lighthouse. He sent his gaze in the direction of Old Harbour. It was a heedless gaze. He took no particular note. Alongside the wharves a number of small vessels were moored. They somewhat crowded the eye with their rigging and spars. The brig-of-war lay in her accustomed place off the pier. Apparently it was not Lieutenant Tupman's intention to put to sea that day.,

"Come, Admiral, we will walk to the Harbour and enquire into this matter," said Captain Acton, who was somewhat pale and looked extremely disconcerted.,

But on the uplands the forests grew sparser as the axes of rugged homesteaders, who had followed in the footsteps of Caleb Spencer, bit home. Gradually farms were cleared, rough stumpy fields the tilling of which tested the hearts of the strongest, but whose rich soil gladdened even the most weary. A saw mill was erected on the banks of a stream known as Levee Creek. Gradually the rough log cabins of the settlers were torn down to be replaced by more modern houses of lumber.