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"'No ghost kin harm where lies this charm,'" chuckled Maurice. "And Cobin—he ain't any head at all, poor Cobin—did he talk sell?" "Gollies!" exulted Maurice. Then uncertainty in his tones, "A feller 'ud have to be a mighty good shot to do that though, Bill.".

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"Maybe you're right," Maurice said, "but I'm goin' t' tell you I ain't feelin' any too much like prowlin' 'round that ha'nted house this night er any other night." "Six hundred tons out and six hundred home. That is twelve hundred. I don't know what freights are, but they must rule high, and, kindly creature as he is, Acton is the man to know to what market to drive his pigs. I think you have done very well; besides obtaining occupation which may conduct you to something higher or at least better, you stand to clear about a hundred pounds by this voyage——" "I got track of your lost sow, Mr. Keeler, when I was comin' home from the store tonight," he said. "Least-wise I didn't know it was your sow but Maurice told me about yours bein' lost. So after Mrs. Keeler went to give Mr. Spencer a call down we hired Anse to look after the preservin' an' went out to try an' track her down." Some three miles east of the imaginary line which divided the Settlement from the outside world, on the Lake Shore road, stood a big frame house in a grove of tall walnut trees. It was the home of a man named Hinter—a man of mystery. Before it the lake flashed blue as a kingfisher's wing through the cedars; behind it swept a tangle of forest which gradually dwarfed into a stretch of swamp-willow and wild hazel-nut bushes, which in turn gave place to marshy bog-lands..