"
"Huh!" grunted Uncle Henry.
"And some of 'em took him up, got the old man right down to
cases."
"That so?" asked Mr. Sherwood curiously. "What's Ged going to
do? Challenge me to a game of cat's cradle? Or does he want to
settle the business at draughts, three best out o' five?"
"Now you know dern well, Hen," said the other, as some of the
listeners laughed loudly at Mr. Sherwood's sally, "that old Ged
Raffer will never lock horns with you 'ceptin' it's in court,
where he'll have the full pertection of the law, and a grain the
best of it into the bargain."
"Well, I s'pose that's so," admitted Nan's uncle, rather
gloomily, she thought.
"So, if Beckett's crowd are int'rested in bumping you a whole
lot, you may be sure Ged's promised 'em real money for it."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Uncle Henry. "You're fooling now. He hasn't
hired any half-baked chip-eaters and Canucks to try and beat me
up?"
"I ain't foolin'."
"Pshaw!"
"You kin 'pshaw' till the cows come home," cried the other
heatedly. "I got it straight."
"Who from?"
"Sim Barkis, him what's cookin' for Beckett's crew."
"Good man, Sim. Never caught him in a lie yet. You are
beginning to sound reasonable, Josh," and Mr. Sherwood put down
his knife and fork and looked shrewdly at his informant.
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