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That night the fishermen of Sandtown were caught red-handed, stealing Deacon Ringold's harvest apples. Like hungry ants scenting sugar they descended upon that orchard, en masse, at exactly ten-thirty o'clock. By ten-forty they had done more damage to the hanging fruit than a wind storm could do in an hour and at ten-forty-five they were pounced upon by the angry deacon and his neighbors and given the lecture of their lives. In vain they pleaded that it was all a mistake, that they had been sent an invitation via a small boy, from the deacon himself. So much had she told him, and the light had gone from her eyes, the song from her lips. "Gollies! Is that so? Well he couldn't hurt the black snake; that's one sure thing.".
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Conrad
"Tom said he'd think it over an' let him know. I guess he was pretty short with Scroggie, knowin' as he does that the woods an' land rightly belong to young Stanhope." "Hold on, Bill, wait a minute," Anson quavered. "I've changed my mind, I'll take the tie an' collar an' call it square." "Young man," said Maddoc, turning again to Frank, "will you please answer a few questions? Did you ever know a queer old man by the name of Scroggie?" "Yep, but one dived an' is gettin' away. After him, Moll." The spaniel, with a joyful whine, cleared the rush wall and splashed into the water. "Fine!" cried Billy, as he reloaded, "Moll's goin' to bring him in.".
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