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When Tom went into court with his phonograph record of the talk of Peters, even though the man's voice was hoarse from a cold when he talked, and when his picture was shown, in the telephone booth, the jury at once convicted him. Boylan, when he learned of the missing button in Tom's possession, confessed that he and some of his men who were birdmen had taken Tom's airship.
Browning did not know any such thing. In fact, he scarcely knew how the young girl looked, but his sister's remark had awakened in him an interest, and after she had retired, which she did early, he rang the bell for Mrs. Peters, who soon appeared in answer to his call. "Is Rosamond Leyton up," he asked. "Yes, sir," answered Mrs. Peters, wondering at the question.
It was difficult to find the way back now in the darkness, but the two lonely, frightened girls trudged on. At last Laurel was able to feel the stone on the path that gave the clue to her little hut. "Does Brentano know you?" she asked Cora suddenly. "I know him. I have been to his shack, and I have heard a lot about him from a housekeeper who left Peters. Do you know he is a handwriting expert?"
He took occasion to inquire of Miss Peters concerning her work, and heard such a good account of her industry, capability, and faithfulness that he felt sure she might be trusted with pleasanter occupation and that which needed greater skill.
"Five years old," repeated Coomber; "but she'd talk if she was as old as that, and Dame Peters told me she'd just laid like a dead thing ever since she'd been there." "She's ill, that's what it is, poor little mite ill and frightened out of her senses;" and Mrs.
We shaped our course for the Cape of Good Hope, for Captain Peters would not run further risk in waiting for the consort privateer. Poor Thompson, notwithstanding all my exertions in his favour, was exposed to much ill-treatment on board the vessel, on account of his firm and unshaken loyalty.
How one grows to hate the slow, monotonous glide, the dull banks, and to envy every swift-moving thing in sight, each man on horseback, each bird flying through the air. Mrs. Peters was a thin, anxious woman, who spent her life anticipating disasters of all sorts.
In 1844 the people of this region had been in favor of extending the boundary as far North as the St. Peters; and in the Constitutional Convention of that year Mr. Langworthy, of Dubuque, had gone so far as to advocate the forty-fifth parallel of latitude as a line of division.
"An' you've got a good memory now," smiled Mr. Peters. "We didn't find no more, though," offered Mr. Pete Wilson, with grave regret. "An' we looked good, too. But we got Red, an' that's the whole game. Red, you old son-of-a-gun, you can lick yore weight in powder!" "It's too bad about Holden," muttered Red, sullenly.
Horses out at the sheds began to squeal. More bees were coming round every moment the angriest bees I have ever seen! They stung wherever they touched. Judge Peters and Mr. Bliss were fighting the insects with both hands; and Uncle Hannibal, too, was pawing the air, with guffaws of laughter. "The Egyptians are getting the best of us!" he cried.
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