Theyseemed to be in excellent spirits, and were
very full of chat. Theywill wait quietly there till the others return.
Hed have liked us to knowthe last part, for he
wasnt fond of being beaten.
Its a rough world, and he might come by
amischief.
No less thanthe illustrious Aylmer
Troth.
Mary, who loved alljewels, exclaimed at its
beauty.
With his pretty love-birds he carries too
heavybaggage for anything very desperate.
The whole crowd makean ugly splash of aniline dye
on this sober landscape. No falcon can do anything against abird in a wood. Then he
seemed to be ashamed of himself, for he apologized forbeing a fool.
That momenton the mudflats had given me a line on
Smith. You would have had to rise uncommonly early toget the better of old
Haraldsen. The trouble was, that Icouldnt be sure that I would ever be willing to
give up mypleasant ways. Then, when I spoke, he appeared to be moreat his
ease.
Thebirds were far out, and there was something
mightily wrong with thevisibility.
I do not know what it is, but I think I know who it
is. I raced back next morning to theold man to find out how he had got hold of it.
He must have changed before I met him, said Sandy.
Thats right enough, provided youre ready to accept
the coldplunge when it comes.
I raced back next morning to theold man to find out
how he had got hold of it.
No less thanthe illustrious Aylmer
Troth.
The pore things will be perished, forits a wind to
blow the tail off a cow, as folks say. Youremember what a big fellow he was, with
his enormous long arms andhis great shoulders?
I wrote something piousin my diary about the
foolishness of treasure-hunting.
But I have found out verybad things which Captain
Jim cannot stop, for they will happenquickly. But he wasnt ill, only indecently
lean, and hewas quite undefeated. The Middle East at that time wasnt propitious
fortreasure-hunting. But he discovered also that he was dying. Theywill wait quietly
there till the others return.
As you see, one side is covered with hieroglyphics
which Icant read.
The date was the fifteenth ofOctober the year
before last. When he is off his guard hespeaks almost like a gentleman. >From the
sound I knew they were pink-foot, for thewhite-fronts make a throatier
noise.
Pottinger broughtme the news that he had left the
Rose and Crown.
I wrote something piousin my diary about the
foolishness of treasure-hunting.
I thought him one ofthe biggest fellows I had ever
seen.