United States or Micronesia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Hallo, Corney! Any freight for Talapus or Chakchak?" The last was the name of his own ranch, and in the Chinook jargon signified an eagle. "Freight for both iv yez," Quilty replied. "But sure ye won't be takin' it on the cayuses. Howdy, Miss Sheila! Will ye 'light and try the comp'ny's ice wather wid a shot iv a limon, or shall I bring ye a pitcher?" "I'll 'light, Mr.
"Ain't you, Ann; lor', dearie, ain't you!" piped the old creature, snatching the food Diana offered. "But what about your nice young pal 'ere? Is 'e for comp'ny's sake jest to keep away the solitood, eh, dearie?" "We're padding it to Tonbridge, Moll." "Tonbridge hey!" gabbled this fearsome old woman, clawing at the meat with her bony, talon-like fingers in a highly offensive manner.
'Tain't all pleasure, neither. In a sight of trouble this minnit." "I want to know," said Scattergood. "Stand to lose my job," said John, sadly. "Dunno where I'll find me another." "What you been doin', eh? What got you in bad?" "One of them dummed gold shipments from the state bank. Hadn't ought to speak about it, 'cause the comp'ny's bein' awful secret. Hain't lettin' it out."
I quite agreed with Private Tom Clary, who, as he placed his brawny shoulder to a big log to roll it up the slope, remarked to his "bunky," Private George Hoey, "That's an invitation, begorra, I don't fale loike acciptin'." "Ye'd niver make yer t'ilet for anither assimbly if ye did, Tom. I don't think the lutinint will risk the comp'ny's hair in that way," replied Hoey.
'Course it don't hold nothin', 'cause the bottom's fell out; but it looks pretty an' looks counts when comp'ny's here!" The boy lifted his head suddenly. "Look a-here! I'll make it hold sumpin'," he cried, diving his hands into his pockets, and bringing out five coppers and a dime. "Youse jest wait. I 'll get a posy up ter de square. 'Course, we 'd ought ter have a posy, wid comp'ny here."
He glanced apprehensively at Mr. Bowman. "Needn't to be afraid of Mr. Bowman, John. What's the story?" "Bank shippin' bullion. Three chunks of it. Wuth fifty-odd thousand dollars. I know, 'cause that's the comp'ny's liability wrote in black and white.... Been stole," he said, after a brief pause. "Where?" "Out of my office, this mornin'. Not a trace. Jest up and disappeared.
A hurt look crept into Mr. Quilty's eyes of faded blue. "I regret that I have no messages for ye, sor," said he. "The comp'ny's land agent, Mr. Sleeman, will take ye wherever ye want to go in his autymobile. Ye will see his sign as ye go uptown. But, speakin' as man to man, Mr. Farwell, and havin' the interests of thim that pays me to heart, I w'u'd venture on a little advice."
'Well, now, if you hadn't told me that I'd ha' jumped to the conclusion that a couple o' the mess boys had got fightin' an' wrecked the ship before you could separate 'em. Why in this an' that, he says, 'didn't you stick inside when any dumb fool could see the bar was breakin'? "'I wanted to keep the comp'ny's sailin' schedule unbroken, sir, I says, tryin' to be funny.
I'm goin' up to Murree in a week. That dawg'll bring fifteen rupees anywheres." "You had better spend it in Masses," said Terence, unbuckling his belt, for he had been on the prisoner's guard, standing helmeted and bolt up right for three long hours. "Not me," said Ortheris cheerfully. "Gawd'll put it down to B Comp'ny's barrick damages one o' these days. You look strapped, Terence."
Word Of The Day