United States or Liechtenstein ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Bommaney had now passed, with just as little profit to the man who parted with them, from the hands of young Barter to the hands of Steinberg. It was just about the time when this lingering but inevitable transaction was completed that chance led young Barter to his encounter with the son of the man whose belongings he had appropriated.
He was ready to run for his life, and he was more than half afraid that the old man was mad his eyes blazed so, and his voice and gestures were so tempestuous. 'It was lost, said Bommaney. 'I lost it, Heaven knows how. I've thought a thousand times, he said, through his clenched teeth, 'that that young Barter must have had it. 'Young Barter, sir? said Hornett.
Steinberg's bosom at this juncture must be imagined. He looked them all, but verbally expressed none of them. 'Get up, said Phil, addressing him. Steinberg obeyed. 'Take a seat in that corner. Steinberg obeyed again. 'Now you to Barter, 'take a place in that corner, behind the desk. 'With pleasure, Mr. Bommaney, said Barter, 'with the very greatest willingness.
Bommaney pushed back his chair, rose to his feet, and retiring to a smaller room consulted a little square looking-glass which hung upon the wall above his washing-stand. His blue eyes were very tearful and a little swollen, his cheeks and nose looked as if they had been scalded. 'Wait a moment, he said aloud, and his voice betrayed him by a break. He blushed and trembled, thinking that Mr.
People talked about these things a good deal for a time, and he himself listened to and took part in many speculations as to Bommaney's whereabouts, and the means he would take to get rid of the notes and make them available for his own purposes. He found it at first a little trying to the nerves. There was nothing, since Bommaney had accepted his own disgrace and run away, to connect young Mr.
His nose and chin were long and pointed, and his manner was meek and self-effacing even when he was alone. There was a tinge of wonder in his face, at war with an habitual smile, in which his eyes had no part. 'Something wrong? he said, under his breath. He went creeping softly down the stairs. 'Something wrong? Mr. Bommaney in tears? Mr. Bommaney! Could anything have happened to Mr. Phil?
By this time he had drawn a bundle of bank-notes from the pocket-book, and now sat flicking the edges of the notes with the tips of his great broad fingers. Bommaney heard the crisp music, and looked up with a momentary glance of hunger in his eyes. 'That's Patty's little private handful, the visitor continued, opening the packet of notes, and smoothing it upon his knee.
Bommaney, but I really must speak out now, sir. It isn't respectable, sir, to talk like that. After this there was a long silence, and Bommaney, who had repouched the bottle after his last application to it, consulted it again, and handed it wordlessly to Hornett, without looking at him. 'Phil might, he murmured in a while he might be brought to believe me.
When, after a day or two, young Mr. Barter had accustomed himself to speak of Bommaney and the lost eight thousand, and had often spoken of them, he began to look out for suggestions that might be useful to himselt He even led the way at times, and speaking to solicitors and barristers of extensive criminal experience, he asked often, for example, how could a scoundrel get rid of such a clumsy handful?
'No, said Bommaney, suddenly weary after his outburst of self-exculpation, 'I don't know. It was after banking hours. It was dark; he had to light the gas. What if I could? What would that have to do with it? 'Well, you see, sir, Hornett answered, 'I'm not likely to forget that evening. Of all the evenings of my life, sir, I made a call at Gable Inn myself, sir, at Number One. If young Mr.
Word Of The Day