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Seton, Ernest Thompson, 1860-1946

"Being the adventures of two boys who lived as Indians and what they learned"

Luk
at it! They're nothing but a gang of thieves."
Yan glanced at the plan that was being flourished in the air.
"Hold on," he said, with an air of authority that he certainly never
before had used to Raften, "there's the lobby and cloak-room to come
off." He subtracted their bulk and found the plan all right--the
Government minimum of air.
Boyle's eye had now just a little gleam of triumphant malice. Raften
seemed actually disappointed not to have found some roguery.
"Well, they're a shcaly lot, anyhow. They'll bear watchin'," he added,
in tones of self-justification.
"Now, Yahn, last year the township was assessed at $265,000 an' we
raised $265 with a school-tax of wan mill on the dollar. This year the
new assessment gives $291,400; how much will the same tax raise if
cost of collecting is same?"
"Two hundred and ninety-one dollars and forty cents," said Yan,
without hesitation--and the three men sat back in their chairs and
gasped.
It was the triumph of his life. Even old Boyle beamed in admiration,
and Raften glowed, feeling that not a little of it belonged to him.
There was something positively pathetic in the simplicity of the three
shrewd men and their abject reverence for the wonderful scholarship of
this raw boy, and not less touching was their absolute faith in his
infallibility as a mathematician.


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