{"id":"01KG8AM5C711TQMNZG3D2FQAZ9","cid":"bafkreibckxnnhtc3bt5hx34ifvqnt5yz5z3pbgro4eo37awj2oq4kyoxhy","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6793,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:26.985Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG89J1FFTGRE9J93Z3K29NGY","start_line":6705,"text":"‘Pardon me, dear uncle; you are wiser than I.’\r\n\r\n‘One would think years and gray hairs should bring wisdom, boy.’\r\n\r\n‘Yorpy there, dear uncle; think you his grizzled locks thatch a brain\r\nimproved by long life?’\r\n\r\n‘Am I Yorpy, boy? Keep to your oar!’\r\n\r\nThus padlocked again, I said no further word till the skiff grounded on\r\nthe shallows, some twenty yards from the deep-wooded isle.\r\n\r\n‘Hush!’ whispered my uncle, intensely; ‘not a word now!’ and he sat\r\nperfectly still, slowly sweeping with his glance the whole country\r\naround, even to both banks of the here wide-expanded stream.\r\n\r\n‘Wait till that horseman yonder passes!’ he whispered again, pointing to\r\na speck moving along a lofty, river-side road, which perilously wound on\r\nmidway up a long line of broken bluffs and cliffs. ‘There--he’s out of\r\nsight now, behind the copse. Quick! Yorpy! Carefully, though! Jump\r\noverboard, and shoulder the box, and--Hold!’\r\n\r\nWe were all mute and motionless again.\r\n\r\n‘Ain’t that a boy, sitting like Zaccheus in yonder tree of the orchard\r\non the other bank? Look, youngster--young eyes are better than\r\nold--don’t you see him?’\r\n\r\n‘Dear uncle, I see the orchard, but I can’t see any boy.’\r\n\r\n‘He’s a spy--I know he is,’ suddenly said my uncle, disregardful of my\r\nanswer, and intently gazing, shading his eyes with his flattened hand.\r\n‘Don’t touch the box, Yorpy. Crouch! crouch down, all of ye!’\r\n\r\n‘Why, uncle--there--see--the boy is only a withered white bough. I see\r\nit very plainly now.’\r\n\r\n‘You don’t see the tree I mean,’ quoth my uncle, with a decided air of\r\nrelief, ‘but never mind; I defy the boy. Yorpy, jump out, and shoulder\r\nthe box. And now then, youngster, off with your shoes and stockings,\r\nroll up your trowser-legs, and follow me. Carefully, Yorpy, carefully.\r\nThat’s more precious than a box of gold, mind.’\r\n\r\n‘Heavy as de gelt, anyhow,’ growled Yorpy, staggering and splashing in\r\nthe shallows beneath it.\r\n\r\n‘There, stop under the bushes there--in among the flags--so--gently,\r\ngently--there, put it down just there. Now, youngster, are you ready?\r\nFollow--tiptoes, tiptoes!’\r\n\r\n‘I can’t wade in this mud and water on my tiptoes, uncle; and I don’t\r\nsee the need of it either.’\r\n\r\n‘Go ashore, sir--instantly!’\r\n\r\n‘Why, uncle, I _am_ ashore.’\r\n\r\n‘Peace! follow me, and no more.’\r\n\r\nCrouching in the water in complete secrecy, beneath the bushes and among\r\nthe tall flags, my uncle now stealthily produced a hammer and wrench\r\nfrom one of his enormous pockets, and presently tapped the box. But the\r\nsound alarmed him.\r\n\r\n‘Yorpy,’ he whispered, ‘go you off to the right, behind the bushes, and\r\nkeep watch. If you see anyone coming, whistle softly. Youngster, you do\r\nthe same to the left.’\r\n\r\nWe obeyed; and presently, after considerable hammering and supplemental\r\ntinkering, my uncle’s voice was heard in the utter solitude, loudly\r\ncommanding our return.\r\n\r\nAgain we obeyed, and now found the cover of the box removed. All\r\neagerness, I peeped in, and saw a surprising multiplicity of convoluted\r\nmetal pipes and syringes of all sorts and varieties, all sizes and\r\ncalibres, inextricably interwreathed together in one gigantic coil. It\r\nlooked like a huge nest of anacondas and adders.\r\n\r\n‘Now then, Yorpy,’ said my uncle, all animation, and flushed with the\r\nforetaste of glory, ‘do you stand this side, and be ready to tip when I\r\ngive the word. And do you, youngster, stand ready to do as much for the\r\nother side. Mind, don’t budge it the fraction of a barley-corn till I\r\nsay the word. All depends on a proper adjustment.’\r\n\r\n‘No fear, uncle. I will be careful as a lady’s tweezers.’\r\n\r\n‘I s’ant lift de heavy pox,’ growled old Yorpy, ‘till de wort pe given;\r\nno fear o’ dat.’\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AKG13FDANC8D5YAET6KW5","peer_type":"intro","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1FFTGRE9J93Z3K29NGY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AM5C7TX5F9HHY1G4KTMT3","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AM5C7ZDVVV2E02SM9TXGS","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:28.039Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:41.585Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}