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So I appointed Jim and an Irishman to help me, and we opened all the baskets and took half. Jim came to one basket with two loaves of bread and two bottles of wine, and he stopped. He said, "Pard, that lay-out in the big basket, with the silver pitcher, is for the communion. I'm a bold buccaneer of the Spanish main, but I'll be cussed if I touch that."

There wasn't a lay-out in town could touch it, an' by an' by it got so that it set the mark on every gatherin' that was held, those where Minnie's satin didn't appear bein' rated as of no account." Celestina paused, and her mouth took an upward curve, as if some pleasant reverie engrossed her.

The camera was wheeled forward and Merton Gill joyously quit smoking while Henshaw secured flashes of various groups, chiefly of losers who were seeing the hollowness of it all. He did not, however, disdain a bit of comedy. "Miss Montague." "Yes, Mr. Henshaw." The Montague girl paused in the act of sprinkling chips over a roulette lay-out.

"It's about the society-page lay-out." He hesitated. "I wonder if it'd be rushing you too much if say," he suddenly broke off, and standing with his hands in his pockets, looked down at her with anxious admiration, "I believe you just know about everything." "No, I don't, Mr. Tembarom; but I'm very glad about the page. Everybody's glad."

The splendour and the imagination which designed the lay-out of Imperial Delhi cannot be over-praised, and under the hands of Sir Edwin Lutyens and Mr. Herbert Baker some wonderful buildings are coming to life. The city, since it is several square miles in extent, cannot be finished for some years, but it may be ready to be the seat of Government as soon as 1924.

"They got him through the chest, an' I guess he's goin' to pass in. He sez to me, 'Ride like hell an' fetch the boss. Tell him I got 'em plumb wher' he wants 'em. I located their lay-out. I ain't got above an hour or so to tell him in. Just hike an' ride like !" Then came Jeff's voice cold and undisturbed. "Where is he?" "Why, by his shack at Spruce Crossing.

Two men seated on the ground presented but a small mark to the Indians shooting uncleaned weapons from running horses at three or four hundred yards' range. "That outfit is rank outsiders," concluded Alfred. "They ain't over a dozen britch-loaders in the lay-out." "Betcher anything you say I drops one," offered the stranger, taking a knee-rest.

"Let's just cut across lots here and go and see Ed McGowan. This way," and they made a bee-line through a field. "Ed McGowan," repeated Handy. "Who is he?" "Big Ed? Why, he bosses the job of the crack gin-mill of the outfit, and runs things." "A good man," says Handy, "to be on the right side of, if he's all right." "Is it Ed? You bet! Why, Ed is the Pierpont Morgan of the whole lay-out.

They don't mix much with Arguilla's men." "She's a lovely lay-out," said Pete. "But I'm with you." Circling the ranch, Brevoort and Pete rode far out into the desert, until the camp-fire was hidden by the ranch-buildings. Then they angled in cautiously, edging past the 'dobe outbuildings and the corrals toward the hacienda. "Don't see anybody around.

Many's the time Annie's said to me: 'Mark my words, Albert, I wouldn't wonder if the police was to come after her one of these days. Just like that. But she's a stunner to look at, ain't she?" "She's some peach," allowed Tuppence carelessly. "Finds it useful in her lay-out, you bet. Has she been wearing any of the emeralds, by the way?" "Emeralds? Them's the green stones, isn't they?"