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Penrose, Margaret

"Or the Hermit of Fern Island"

They could not now demand them, was the thought that
flashed to the mind of each, and yet to leave them in possession of
the officers, was the very worst thing that could have happened, for
there was always the danger of the old story coming up and then the
risk to Mr. Starr, after all his years of evading the law!
"They have no right to them," Jack said under his breath.
"Hush!" Cora whispered, "they are going the other way!"
The two men were talking. Suddenly one of them said loudly enough
for the listeners to hear:
"It might be dynamite. Not for me! Here goes!" and he carefully
set the can down under a bush.
"Yes," said the other man. "You are right. Those two fellows were
up to most anything. We will get Mulligan. He could smell
dynamite," and with that they turned, took a new path toward the
shore, and were soon sailing off in their boat.
For a few moments neither of the three, who were standing there
watching, spoke. Then Cora's face brightened.
"They are ours, Laurel's," she said, "and we have a right to take
them."
"But the law is queer on such points," Jack argued. "I have known
men to be put in jail for what they call interfering with an officer
when the officer could not do just what he wanted to with some
spunky citizen. I should not like to touch the can of red paint."
"But my father," said Laurel, in the most pleading of tones.


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Kody Do Gier
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