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"He's had to go to the jail, he was leaving the house as I got here," replied Moxlow. There was the noise of voices in the hail, one of which was the colonel's, evidently raised in protest, then a clumsy hand was heard fumbling with the knob and the door was thrown open, and Joe Montgomery slouched into the room. "Boss, you got to see me now!" he cried.
"Why, Peregrine," said he softly, his handsome face unwontedly grave, "how are you, dear lad?" "Thank you I am greatly better and here is a hair on the pillow, Uncle George! This is neither your hair nor mine, and Mrs. Mary's is brown, as I remember. So whose hair is this, Uncle George?" "Hair?" he repeated, fumbling with his whisker. "I don't see any hair, Perry." "Here on my pillow, Uncle."
As for myself, I had been so overjoyed at seeing my old friend restored that I would have forgotten anything. Kennedy looked rather wan and peaked, but insisted on going to the laboratory as usual. "Do you remember what became of the bottle of digitalin?" he asked, fumbling in the closet. Mechanically I felt in my own pockets; it was not there. I shook my head.
After that strange declaration on the part of Steve, Max felt that his lips must be sealed more than ever. He wanted a little time to think things over. Besides, Max even began to wonder whether he could have just dreamed that he saw Steve fumbling at the haversack in the middle of the night, and mumbling to himself all the while.
There around the house some one was already coming, fumbling with his hands along the wall. A whistle was heard. It circled around like the notes of a fine chord, sad and melodious, wandered musingly into the wilderness of darkness, and seemed to be searching for something. It came nearer. Suddenly it died away under the window, as if it had entered into the wood of the wall.
Flaxie was perfectly delighted. She had not known till then that the door was locked, and if Ninny had been quiet she would probably have kept fumbling away till she opened it. But now she wouldn't so much as touch the key, you may be sure. O, Flaxie Frizzle was a big rogue, as big as she could be, and be so little!
By this time, according to the girl's account, it was roaring like a steam-siren. "Pretty dear!" says the old lady, fumbling with the cord, "don't cry; mother's opening it as fast as she can." Then she turns to the chambermaid "If you open my bag," says she, "you will find a bottle of milk and some dog-biscuits." "Dog-biscuits!" says the chambermaid.
"Of course I'll give you whatever you need for when when it's born," he said. He was fumbling with his pocketbook; he had nothing more to say about leaving Mercer. She took the money doubtfully. "I won't want it yet awhile," she said. "I'll make it more if I can," he told her; he got up, hesitated, then put out his hand. For a single instant, just for her pluck, he was almost fond of her.
Nobody dar but Mistah Goodrich. I put eway ol' Mose." And he began fumbling at the ropes and strings that made the harness. Cameron, burning with impatience and curiosity, stepped to the door of the cabin and pushed it open. By the dim light of a dirty kerosene lantern, he could see nothing at first; but a moaning voice from one end of the room, drew his attention in the right direction.
The lieutenant stooped down so that he could see into the cabin, and discovered a man with a lighted match in his hand, fumbling at the door of the closet where Captain Sullendine kept his whiskey. "Is that the captain?" whispered Christy, who could not make out the man, though he was not as tall as the master of the West Wind. "No; it is Bokes," replied Graines.
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