United States or Kiribati ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
His friends ashore were lavish with hospitality, while "Globbins the Speed Fiend," as Perry had dubbed the freckle-faced proprietor of the restless automobile, was indefatigably attentive. A second letter from Neil, forwarded from one port of call to another in their wake, reached them one day, and they composed a reply between them and all hands signed it.
My grandmother's attention was diverted to the dog, who was especially dear to her for Uncle Luke's sake. She sat down now in the great hooded chair which was supposed to belong to Neil Doherty, only that he did so many things in the house that he never had much time for sitting in state in the hall.
And Barry because his own heart was full of all their splendid deeds let himself go. He told how Sally and Booth had met their last call, of the M. O. and his splendid work in rescuing the wounded. "No word in all of this of the Pilot, I observe," interjected Captain Neil. "Oh, he just carried on!" Then he told how at last the M. O. went out, and how on his face there was only peace.
"See Devoe about it," answered Mills shortly. He hurried away, leaving Neil with open mouth and reddening cheeks. "Well, that's what I get for disappointing folks," he told himself. "Only he needn't have been quite so short. What's the good of asking Devoe? He won't let me on. And but I'll try, just the same. Paul's had his chance and there's no harm now in looking after Neil Fletcher."
So the P. C. Company sent young Neil Bonner north, where the white spaces are, to do its work and to learn to be good like his father. "Five years of simplicity, close to the soil and far from temptation, will make a man of him," said old Neil Bonner, and forthwith crawled back among his roses. Young Neil set his jaw, pitched his chin at the proper angle, and went to work.
Then, late one wonderful day, the interesting invalid, Mr. Neil Blakely himself, was "paraded" upon the piazza in the Sanders's special reclining-chair, and Kate and Mrs.
They had rowed steadily, rising from the thwarts at every stroke, up to the moment we passed them, when they recognized Charley and me. That took the last bit of fight out of them. They hauled in their oars and sullenly submitted to arrest. "Well, Charley," Neil Partington said, as we discussed it on the wharf afterward, "I fail to see where your boasted imagination came into play this time."
Neil stood up on the bench and got into that cheer in great shape. He was feeling better. Mills had half promised to put him in, and while that might mean much or nothing it was ground for hope. He trotted on to the field and over to the benches almost happily. The spectators were settling back in their seats, and the cheering had begun once more. The north stand had regained its spirit.
He found that by a backward contortion he could bring himself erect again, and that for a few minutes after each respite it was not so difficult for him to stand. After a third effort he turned again toward Neil. A groan of horror rose to his imprisoned lips.
The outlaw chief's hard eye ran over the rebels and read them like a primer They had come to depose him certainly, to kill him perhaps. Though this last he doubted. It wouldn't be like Neil to plan his murder, and it wouldn't be like the others to give him warning and meet him in the open. Warily he stood behind the table, watching their awkward embarrassment with easy assurance.
Word Of The Day