TOM GROGAN
circus come out—an', anoder t'ing, what's dis cologne yer got on yer coat? Maybe next time ye climb a fence ye'll keep from spillin' it, see? Oh, I'm onter ye. Ye set de stable afire. Dat's what's de matter.”
“I hope I may die—I wuz a-carryin' de can er ker'sene home, an' when de roof fell in I wuz up on de fence so I c'u'd see de fire, an' de can slipped”—
“What fence?” said Cully, shaking him as a terrier would a rat.
“Why dat fence on de hill.”
That was enough for Cully. He had his man. The lie had betrayed him. Without a word he jerked the cowardly boy from the ground, and marched him straight into the kitchen:—
“Say, Carl, I got de fire-bug. Ye kin smell der ker'sene on his clo'es.”
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