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Al Newman arranged all the theatre parties for his wife and guests. He opened up the piano as he spoke and turned to the musician. “We’ll play there’s a strike in the saw-mills, Dutchy, and this is scab labor,” Billy excused amiably. And for a fact the white cotton string carried the messages quite safely from the “Front,” where Jimmy and George laid out the “line” over wonderful grades, across impossible gorges; and “wired” back for further orders. Harry Potter was the operator at the “Front,” and Vilette,—“Women do operate, you know,” she said,—Vilette was the proud holder of “the key” at Headquarters, where Clarence Hammond strutted around as Messenger; and because he was the “son of the Boss,” bullied his Cousin Harry unmercifully. As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.”.

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“S’posin’ the pore little critter’s hidin’ there, shiverin’ an’ chatterin’, afeerd o’ them orful pirates,” he soliloquised, while large drops of moisture gathered on his brow at the thought. As he hurried along he encountered a branch which hung low and like a scalpel lifted the straw hat from the head of the astonished boy. “Mith Wopp, had Jonah any little girlth or boyth at home?” “Yer a reglar Mis’ Barnum,” he praised. Whereupon the enterprising program-maker began to devise new and more wonderful side-shows for her admirer. Was there to be another murder? Ought he to call? If he did wouldn’t they turn on him—kill him? No matter. Some one might be on the road and hear. And he could run pretty fast. Anyway he must risk it..