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Soon after McDonald had returned and resumed his seat, a tall thin man, dressed in a coarse suit of homespun, entered the room, and addressing our host familiarly as Squire Peter, deposited in the corner a fishing-rod, and proceeded to disencumber himself of a large salmon basket apparently well filled, and also two wallets, one of which seemed to contain his clothes, and the other, from the dull heavy sound it emitted as he threw it on the floor, some tools.
The lad came to the door, which by now contained few loiterers, and stood there a moment gazing out into the street. "Are you Sergeant Hamlin?" he asked quietly. "Yes." "Miss McDonald requested me to hand you this note unobserved. I have no knowledge of its contents." Hamlin felt the flutter of the paper in his palm, and stood silent, clinging to it, as the other carelessly recrossed the room.
Brewster wishes ten tens, five twenties, and ten ones. Thank you, good afternoon," and counting over the money she thrust it inside her bag and hurried away. She had been gone a bare five minutes when Kent reached the window and pushed several checks toward the teller. "Is Mr. Clymer in his office, McDonald?" he asked, placing the bank notes given, him in his wallet. "I'm not sure."
McDonald can wear blue she has a morning gown of cadet blue that she is a picture in." "You are both very kind," said Christie. "I like blue; it is the color of all the Hudson's Bay posts, and the factor's residence is always decorated in blue." "Is it really? How interesting do tell us some more of your old home, Mrs.
Ambassador McCormick secured our immediate release, and we returned to the States. M'sieu' has no idea of the power of these Russian officers. The murder of my assistant was of the most brutal character. Kozoubsky came to my office and demanded the iron, but having secured it, refused to sign the receipt which McDonald presented to him.
She shook her head. "No," she said. "I never possessed anything so beautiful in my life." "But you drop it as you come, I think, yes?" The man's eyes were levelled at her devouringly. Quick as thought he turned to Elas watching the scene. "Is it yours? I see it on the carpet, yes?" The manager was prompt to take his cue. "It's not mine," he said. "It must be yours, Miss McDonald.
"But now, I heard there never was a town site filed on." "There was a story," replied Dan Anderson, ruminatingly, "that Jack Wilson laid out a town there soon after he made the Homestake strike. He had McDonald, the deputy surveyor, plat it out on a piece of brown paper, which was the only sort they had, and Jack started over with the plat to file at the county seat.
At last the eastern sky was tinged with red, and the faint beams of a new day came streaming in through the windows of the old-farm house; and then Edwards, after bidding a tearful adieu to his aged and stricken relatives, and accompanied by the officers, left the house and proceeded on his way to McDonald, to commence his journey to Chicago.
But I have told you all about it and the hopes he raised, which were only to be dashed to the ground by his unexpected death. It took me months and months to get over it; in fact, in the sense of the word I never did get over it; even the gradual down-fall of the school and the awful struggle that Miss McDonald was going through never seemed to me as real as my own disappointment.
Do you suppose he would hang around a girl who was poor, such a sweet, pretty, dear creature as Alice Maitland, who is a hundred times nicer than I am?" "He might," said Miss McDonald, still quizzically. "They say that like goes to like, and it is reported that the Duke of Tewkesbury is as good as ruined." "Do be serious, McDonald." The girl nestled up closer to her and took her hand.
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