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Two Arrows: A Story of Red and White (Illustrated Edition)

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There's a problem loading this menu at the moment. Books By William Osborn Stoddard. I'll sell it for two hundred dollars, considering the flood. The miller made a wry face for a moment, but then responded, smiling: "Well! After what you've done to-night, too: saved all there was on the first floor,--yes, I will.

Tell him I'll do it. A high ridge of water was sweeping down across the pond. It carried a crest of foam, logs, planks, and rubbish, shining white in the moonlight, and it rolled on toward the mill and the dam as if it had an errand. Crash--roar--crash--and a plunging sound,--and it seemed as if the Crofield dam had vanished.


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But it had not. Only a section of its top work, in the middle, had been knocked away by the rushing stroke of those logs. A frightened shout went up from the spectators, and it had hardly died away before there followed another splintering crash. The frail supports of the bridge, brittle with age and weather, already straining hard against the furious water, needed only the battering of the first heavy logs from the boom, and down they went. There won't be anything left of Crofield, at this rate.

I won't stand in your way.

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He had turned suddenly and walked away homeward, along the narrow strip of land that remained between the wide, swollen Cocahutchie and the fence. At the end of the fence, where he came into his own street, away above where the head of the bridge had been, there was a large gathering.

That around the mill had been nearly all of men and boys. Here were women and girls, and the smaller boys, whose mothers and aunts held them and kept them from going nearer the water. Jack found it of no use to say, "Oh, mother, I'm too muddy! Bessie and Sue had evidently been crying; but Mary had not; and it was her hand on Jack's arm that led him away, up the street, toward their gate.

Did you ride fast? I'm glad I can ride! I could have done it, too.

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It was splendid! The sorrel mare galloped all the way, going and coming, up hill and down; and Molly, I kept wishing and thinking every jump she gave,--wishing I was galloping to New York, instead of to the Four Corners! Monday morning came, bright and sunshiny; and it hardly reached Crofield before the people began to get up and look about them.

Jack went down to the river and did not get back very soon. His mind was full of something besides the flood, and he did not linger long at the mill. But he looked long and hard at all the pieces of land below the mill, down to Deacon Hawkins's line. He knew where that was, although the fence was gone. Hammond said about selling it.

We can't change the railroad line. We can say to the Crofield people that if they'll give us the right of way through the village we'll build them a new bridge. They'll do it. Right here's the spot for the station.

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Keep mum. After breakfast his father went to the shop, and Jack followed him to speak about the land purchase. When Jack explained the miller's offer, Mr. Ogden went with him to see Mr. After a short interview, Mr. Ogden and Jack secured the land in settlement of the amount already promised Jack, and of an old debt owed by the miller to the blacksmith, and also in consideration of their consenting to a previous sale of the trees for cash to the Bannermans, who had made their offer that morning.

Hammond seemed very glad to make the sale upon these terms, as he was in need of ready money. When Jack returned to his father's shop, he remembered the men he had seen at the river, and he told his father what they had said. They'll use up that land, and we won't get a cent. Well, it didn't cost anything. I'd about given up collecting that bill. It was the old smile, too; a smile of good-humored self-confidence, which flickered over his lips from side to side, and twisted them, and shut his mouth tight.

Just as he was about to speak, his father took a long, neatly folded paper out of his coat pocket and laid it on the table. Mother, it's to John Ogden, Jr.!


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I'll hold it for him, for a while, but it is Jack's whenever I chose to record that deed. Livermore says there's a team here, horses and open carriage. It came over on Friday. The driver has cleared out, and somebody must take them home, and he wants me to drive over. Can't I take Molly, Mother? It's less than nine miles--" "Father," said Jack, "you said, last night, I needn't come back to Crofield, right away.

And Mertonville's nine miles nearer the city--" "And a good many times nine miles yet to go," exclaimed the blacksmith; but then he added, smiling: "Go ahead, Jack. I do believe that if any boy can get there, you can. Jack felt as if circumstances were changing pretty fast, so far as he was concerned; and so did Mary, for she had about given up all hope of seeing her friends in Mertonville. But a part of his feeling was that he had never before loved Crofield and all the people in it, especially his own family, so much as at that minute.

He went over to the ruined hotel, where he found the landlord at work saving all sorts of things and seeming to feel reasonably cheerful over his misfortunes.