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"Even if they was one handy, the roads are too bad, except for a high-powered car." "I have it," shouted Frank suddenly. "I'll get the engines and try to hurry them here in time to save the house at least." "How's that, young feller?" asked Farmer Goggins, who had stepped up. "Say that again." "I said I'll get the engines for you and in jig time too," cried the boy. "Don't see how."
"Don't fight, guys we've got to figure on training, too," Ramos laughed. "I've got the problem of an expensive training centrifuge about beat. Out at my old motor scooter club. Come on, Charlie you, too, Jig get your cars and let's go! It's only seven miles, and we all need a break." Paul Hendricks had gone for a walk.
"You've got to go!" cried Sally. "I've got to go," admitted Cold Feet in a whisper. "I've got Meg saddled for you already. She's plumb gentle." "Just a minute. I've forgotten something." "You don't mean you're going back into that room where Sinclair is?" "I won't waken him. He's sleeping like the dead." Jig turned away from them and hurried back to his room.
"You appear to be working hard," replied the forester scornfully. "I help load the trucks," said the fellow, as the forester turned on his heel and walked away, followed by Charley. "You don't suppose that he could have heard what we said, do you?" asked Charley, anxiously. "Heard every word of it," replied the forester. "The jig is up. That was Bill Collins' cousin and he's as crooked as Bill.
Her head swung a little to the west, pointing toward the miniature lighthouse of the Jolliette breakwater, far away there, hardly distinguishable against the land. The dinghy danced a squashy, splashy jig in the wash of the wake; and, turning in my seat, I followed the James Westoll with my eyes.
"I might go on with my knitting," said the girl, "if somebody would hold my skein for me to wind." Gethin held it, of course; and while the ball increased in size there was plenty of time and opportunity for talk, which was interrupted by Robin's fiddle striking up a merry jig time.
Though not forbidding, the women were very plain, ethnologically of low type, with small turn-up noses, small eyes, large jaws, and large flat cheekbones. The men were ugly as sin and coarse as young bulls, of which their movements were remindful. A piper struck up a jig and couples of men danced wildly about, the women looking on.
The pirates once more sat down and permitted their hot feet to loll overboard. "It's cold down here nights, Gib," McGuffey opined presently. "Where're we goin' to sleep?" "In our old berths, of course." The success of his bluff had operated on Gibney like a tonic. "Hop into your shoes, Bart, an' we'll snake them two scabs out o' their berths in jig time." "I'm dodgin' fights to-night, Gib.
Still singing, she felt herself twisted about with a low growl and a lifting of the red lip from the glittering teeth; she broke the hornpipe's thread, and commenced unravelling a lighter, livelier thing, an Irish jig.
But here is the gate we will disturb these honest gentlemen's recreations." As he spoke, he applied the large and ponderous knocker to the hall-door. "Rat-tat-tat-too!" said Wildrake; "there is a fine alarm to you cuckolds and round-heads." He then half-mimicked, half-sung the march so called: "Cuckolds, come dig, cuckolds, come dig; Round about cuckolds, come dance to my jig!"
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