"Come," said Billy Byrne, "we'd better move in a bit out o'
sight o' de mainland, an' look fer a place to make camp. I
reckon we'd orter rest here for a few days till we git in shape
ag'in. I know youse must be dead beat, an' I sure am, all
right, all right."
Together they sought a favorable site for their new home,
and it was as though the horrid specter of a few moments
before had never risen to menace them, for the girl felt that a
great burden of apprehension had been lifted forever from her
shoulders, and though a dull ache gnawed at the mucker's
heart, still he was happier than he had ever been before--
happy to be near the woman he loved.
With the long sword of Oda Yorimoto, Billy Byrne cut
saplings and bamboo and the fronds of fan palms, and with
long tough grasses bound them together into the semblance of
a rude hut. Barbara gathered leaves and grasses with which
she covered the floor.
"Number One, Riverside Drive," said the mucker, with a
grin, when the work was completed; "an' now I'll go down
on de river front an' build de Bowery."
"Oh, are you from New York?" asked the girl.
"Not on yer life," replied Billy Byrne. "I'm from good ol'
Chi; but I been to Noo York twict wit de Goose Island Kid,
an' so I knows all about it.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215