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Greg called up to the obliging bridge officer. "On the surface, sir," came the dry reply. "On the surface -just where, in latitude and longitude?" Holmes insisted. But the ship's officer smiled and shook his head. "I'm not permitted to tell that, sir. Wish I could." Going at the speed now employed the transport fleet and the oncoming destroyers were not long in getting to close quarters.
Some day we may hope to have our companies filled up to full strength." "Small chance to get over to France until our companies are filled," Prescott smiled, as he stood up, looked himself over and started for the door. Captain Greg Holmes followed at his heels.
"You slip back into the woods, Tom," whispered Dick. "See if you can find Greg and the other fellows. If you can, bring them up quickly." Dave and I'll stay here, unless Garwood moves away. If he does, Darry and I will follow him. If you hear any war whoops, come running in that direction, you and the other fellows. You'll know that the whoop means that we need you."
Hibbert presently of Greg, indicating the multi-colored load of ices, each resting in a half of a cantaloupe. "Not exactly favorites," Greg replied. "We don't often have the money to spend on such an expensive treat." "Don't you?" inquired Hibbert in a tone of considerable surprise, as though wondering why everyone in the world wasn't as well supplied with money as he himself was.
"You go in first, Dick," urged Tom Reade. "It was you who got the invite, anyway," hinted Greg Holmes. Laughing quietly Dick turned the knob of the door. He went in bravely enough, but some of his chums followed rather sheepishly. Fred Ripley, who had dropped in five minutes before, saw them at once, and scowled. "'Ware freshmen!" he called, rather loudly.
He thought of the last time he had seen his brother, and then deliberately blocked out the engulfing bitterness. That had been more than a year ago. Maybe Greg had changed since then. But somehow, Tom didn't think so. The Sloppy Joe was on the valley floor now, and ahead the bubble covering the city was drawing closer. The sun was almost gone; lights were appearing inside the plastic shielding.
I'm old enough to know my own mind." "I don't think you do. You're bewitched by her eyes and her way of talking. Her dialect sounds rather cute to you. Don't be foolish, Greg." "Mrs. Morton, I tried to make you understand yesterday. There was a time when I believed I cared a great deal for you. That's all over now.
"You understand that those ships are hardly suited to a major mining operation like ours," he said, "and the claims...." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "Still, we'd want you to be happy with the price. Say, forty-five thousand?" Greg hesitated, shook his head again. "I guess we'd better think it over, Mr. Tawney." "Fifty thousand is absolutely the top," Tawney said sharply.
Greg, and afterwards to walk through it with him. At first he went timidly and shrinkingly, but the kindly greetings of the women he met, and the children stopping to pull a forelock or bob a courtesy as of old, gradually cheered him up, and he soon got accustomed to the change, and would of an afternoon go down to the village and chat with the women, after he had ascertained that his successor had no objection whatever, and was, indeed, pleased that he still took an interest in his former parishioners.
"Yes; I am going to visit Miss Sharp this afternoon." "Have you heard that Bert Dodge is in town at present?" "No!" muttered Greg. I wonder what folks here think of a sneak who was forced to resign by a cadet committee on honor?" "Folks here don't know that Dodge was forced out of the Academy." "Thank you for telling me," nodded Greg. "Then I shall know how to keep my mouth shut.
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