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Stockton, Frank Richard, 1834-1902

"Rudder Grange"

He didn't like this much, but said that if it
would help me out of the Miguel, he didn't care.
"Well, on the mornin' of the next day I went into the little front
room that they called the office, to see if there was a letter for
us yet, an' there wasn't nobody there to ask. But I saw a pile of
letters under a weight on the table, an' I jus' looked at these to
see if one of 'em was for us, an' if there wasn't the very letter
Jone had written to the doctor! They'd never sent it! I rushes
back to Jone an' tells him, an' he jus' set an' looked at me
without sayin' a word. I didn't wonder he couldn't speak.
"'I'll go an' let them people know what I think of 'em,' says I.
"'Don't do that,' said Jone, catchin' me by the sleeve. 'It wont
do no good. Leave the letter there, an' don't say nothin' about
it. We'll stay here till afternoon quite quiet, an' then we'll go
away. That garden wall isn't high.'
"'An' how about the trunk?' says I.
"'Oh, we'll take a few things in our pockets, an' lock up the
trunk, an' ask the doctor to send for it when we get to the city.'
"'All right,' says I. An' we went to work to get ready to leave.
"About five o'clock in the afternoon, when it was a nice time to
take a walk under the trees, we meandered quietly down to a corner
of the back wall, where Jone thought it would be rather convenient
to get over. He hunted up a short piece of board which he leaned
up ag'in the wall, an' then he put his foot on the top of that an'
got hold of the top of the wall an' climbed up, as easy as nuthin'.


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