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"Life's on'y a fleetin' show, John, as the sayin' is. We've all got to go, sooner or later. To go with a clean record's the main thing. Fact is, it's the on'y thing worth strivin' for, John." "Yes, that's so, William, that's so; there ain't no getting around it. Which of these lots would you recommend?" "Well, it depends, John. Are you particular about outlook?"
But he was relieved from the bother of accompanying himself; his resonance overlaid in some measure the cheap quality of the record's tone; he contrived to master a degree of momentum to let himself go; and the general result was good, much better than his attempt at that tea. Hortense and Carolyn looked at him with a new respect; and Amy, who had been willing to admire, now admired openly.
"Think of that, Pete! And she soliciting us. That'll be good news for your loving husband. Come along, Queenie. Your record's against you. Everybody'll know you've dropped back to your old ways." "I am going to my husband," said she quietly. "You had better not annoy me." Pete looked uneasy, but Black Mustache's sinister face became more resolute.
All the same, I hinted I didn't want his help." Kemp laughed. "You surprise me every time! I'm all for a square deal and down with scheming grafters and log-rollers, but I allow I hate them worst when they give another fellow the post I want." "The thing's not fixed yet. The company's engineers are going to judge and our record's pretty good. They may engage us. We'll know to-morrow."
"If a newspaper should publish the testimony," said Herron, "Judge Glassford would never dare bring the editor before him for contempt. His record's too bad. I happen to know he was in the News-Record office no longer ago than last month, begging for the suppression of an article that might have caused his impeachment, if published. So there's one paper that wouldn't be afraid of him."
Wearing such a front, he continued: "When I say 'no' I mean it, and the subject is closed. I like Vale, I know everybody here, and everybody knows me." "That's why it's time to move," said Jim, with another unpleasant curl of his lip. "As long as they didn't know you you got past. But you'll never hold another office." "Indeed! My record's open to inspection. I made the best sheriff in "
I want your team and wagon, some blankets, and driving-robes." "Am I bound to outfit the police?" "I guess you had better. Your record's none too good." He led his prisoner into the kitchen, where the stove was burning, and, laying his carbine on the table, he loosed the handcuffs and bade the man take off his long coat. "Go through his pockets, Stanton," he said.
I witnessed the signatures, and Godfrey, with more eagerness than he had shown in the whole affair, caught up the paper and sprang with it to the door. "Get that down to the office, as quick as you can," he said, to a man outside. "I'll 'phone instructions. That," he added, closing the door and turning back to us, "is my reward for all this or, rather, the Record's reward. And now, gentlemen, Mr.
Trumbull White, on the Chicago "Record's" despatch-boat Hercules, to post my letters and the letters that had been intrusted to me by Colonel Wood and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt, and to get some articles of camp equipment which I had ordered in New York, but which had failed to reach me before the State of Texas sailed from Key West.
But beyond the door, in the hall, nothing." "Still," interrupted Harrington, "to get back to the facts in the case. They are perfectly in accord either with my theory of the cigar or the Record's of spontaneous combustion. How do you account for the facts?" "I suppose you refer to the charred head, the burned neck, the upper chest cavity, while the arms and legs were untouched?"
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