П’ятнадцятирічний капітан

A Royal Burial

           

           DickSandwasnotmistaken.Thescratchingcontinued,andinamoredistinctmanner.Itseemedthatfromtheoutsidesomeonewasdiggingtheearthunderthedoor.Wasitananimal?Wasitaman?

           "Hercules!IfitwereHercules!"theyoungnovicesaidtohimself.

           Hiseyeswerefixedonhisguard;hewasmotionless,andundertheinfluenceofaleadensleep.DickSand,bringinghislipstothedoor-sill,thoughthemightriskmurmuringHercules’sname.Amoan,likealowandplaintivebark,repliedtohim.

           "ItisnotHercules,"saidDicktohimself,"butitisDingo.Hehasscentedmeasfarasthisbarrack.ShouldhebringmeanotherwordfromHercules?ButifDingoisnotdead,Negorohaslied,andperhaps"

           Atthatmomentapawpassedunderthedoor.DickSandseizedit,andrecognizedDingo’spaw.But,ifithadaletter,thatlettercouldonlybeattachedtoitsneck.Whattodo?WasitpossibletomakethatholelargeenoughforDingotoputinitshead?Atallevents,hemusttryit.

           ButhardlyhadDickSandbeguntodigthesoilwithhisnails,thanbarksthatwerenotDingo’ssoundedovertheplace.Thefaithfulanimalhadjustbeenscentedbythenativedogs,anddoubtlesscoulddonothingmorethantaketoflight.Somedetonationsburstforth.Theoverseerhalfawoke.DickSand,nolongerabletothinkofescaping,becausethealarmwasgiven,mustthenrollhimselfupagaininhiscorner,and,afteralovelyhope,hesawappearthatdaywhichwouldbewithoutato-morrowforhim.

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Roboto Lora
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