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Thurston, I. T. (Ida Treadwell), 1848-1918

"The Bishop's Shadow"

"
"Well, I say, boys, he's a nice one, Dick Hunt is! After gettin' us to
help him lick a feller 'cause he darsent do it alone, he talks of
gettin' us took up for it," exclaimed the last speaker; "but see here,
you," he added to Dick, "Bryan knew you an' he didn't know any the
rest of us, an' I tell ye what--if you get inter trouble 'bout this
job, you lug us into it 'f ye dare! I'll swear 't Carrots an' Jo here
were down t' my place with me, 'n' they'll swear to it too; hey,
boys?"
"We will so!"
"We'll do that ev'ry time!" they answered in one voice; and then with
a few cutting words the three turned off together, leaving Dick to
pursue his way alone.
And miserable enough Dick was as he walked on alone. He was not in the
least sorry for what had been done to Theodore, but he was afraid of
the consequences. He turned sick with dread as he remembered how the
boy's body had slipped in a limp heap to the ground and lain there
motionless.
Suppose they had killed him? It would be murder. Somebody would have
to answer for it and that somebody would be he--Dick Hunt. The cold
perspiration started on his forehead and his heart throbbed heavily at
the thought, and he felt a wild desire to run on and on till he had
left that dark heap in the dark alley, miles and miles behind him.


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