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Too-oot! toot! toot! sounded sharply, hoarsely, from the deep throat of the "Chelsea's" whistle. "Good enough," muttered Lieutenant Danvers. "They've ordered the Rhinds scooter to slow clown and fall into line behind the gunboat." "I'm sorry," muttered Hal. "Why?" asked the naval lieutenant. "I wish they had let old Rhinds go ahead and get all his machinery red-hot at the outset."
If Uncle Everard had been there, she wouldn't have dared. I told her so." With an effort Stella unclasped her hands. She put her arm around the little girl. "Tell me what they are saying, Tessa," she said. "I think with you that I had better know." Tessa suffered Scooter to escape in order to hug Stella close.
It was a pretty little place twined in roses, standing in a shady compound that Tessa called "the jungle." Tessa became at once her most constant visitor. She and Scooter were running wild as usual, but Netta was living in strict retirement. People said she looked very ill, but she seemed to resent all sympathy. There was an air of defiance about her which kept most people at a distance.
The bluebell eyes gazed questioningly into his. "Where where is Scooter?" whispered Tessa. "Not far away, dear," he made answer soothingly. "We will go and find him presently. Drink another little drain of this first!" She obeyed him almost mechanically. The shadow of a great horror still lingered in her eyes. He gathered her closely to him. "Try and get a little sleep, darling! I'm here.
She passed her on to Stella with her two-edged smile, and Tessa and Scooter forthwith cheerfully took up their abode at The Green Bungalow with whole-hearted satisfaction. Stella experienced little difficulty in dealing with the child. She found herself the object of the most passionate admiration which went far towards simplifying the problem of managing her.
Punctually at eight o'clock Tessa arrived, slightly awed but supremely happy, seated in a 'rickshaw, escorted by Bernard, and hugging the beloved Scooter to her eager little breast. Her eyes were shining with mysterious expectation. As her cavalier handed her from her chariot up the red-carpeted steps she moved as one who treads enchanted ground.
They walked back through the trees and into the camping ground in time to see a lanky, white-clad individual on a three-wheeled motor scooter the kind where the driver sits on a cargo box come to a stop.
Ramos Miguel Ramos Alvarez only stood with his black-visored cap pushed back on his head, and a cocky smirk of good humor on his mouth. Reckless Ramos, who went tearing around the country in an ancient motor scooter, decorated with squirrel tails and gaudy bosses, would hardly be disturbed by any risky thing he wanted to do.
Likewise, Gimp Hines went by train to Illinois. Ramos rode his scooter all the way down to East Texas and back, to see his parents and a flock of younger brothers and sisters. When he returned, he solemnly gave his well-worn vehicle to an earnest boy still in high school. "No dough," Ramos said. "I just want her to have a good home."
"Get down here and look," he commanded. He had seen at once what had happened during their absence and his quick mind had caused him to react. There were men outside, several of them, and they were watching a small power scoop move into position in front of the lower mine entrance. Among them were Dr. Miller and Belsely. Away from the group, sitting on his tricycle scooter, was the Frostola man!
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