United States or Finland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Poor Dan Waters had been six months in his grave, now, and this was the first glimpse Deaneville had had of his widow. For an unbroken half year she had not once left the solitude of the big ranch down by the marsh, or spoken to any one except her old Indian woman servant and the various "hands" in her employ. She had been, in the words of Deaneville, "sorta nutty" since her husband's death.
It was Aunt Mollie's turn to stare pridefully at the Peel plate on the chimney shelf. "A thing like that sets a family up, sorta." Uncle Clem had taken out a fat black cigar with a red-white-and-blue band. He bit off the end and alternately thrust it between his lips or felt of its thickness with a fondling thumb and finger. Luke, watching, felt a sudden compassion for the cigar.
"It wasn't pretty, you know, watching that ship go up and not be able to do anything about it," Loring continued plaintively. "Jardine and Bangs well, they're they were sorta friends of mine."
And we'd have to go up a ladder, and out a manhole, to get out of the conveyor tunnel. What sorta shape's Mr. Pelton in?" "He's under hypnotaine, completely unconscious," Prestonby said. "Then we'd have to drag him," Yetsko said. "Strap him up in a tarp, or load him into a sleeping bag, if we can get hold of one." "There are plenty, down in the warehouse," Latterman interrupted, joining them.
"And this cadet candidate" he nodded casually toward Astro "offered to carry my luggage. Now he refuses." Mike glared at Astro. "Did you agree to carry this man's luggage?" "Well I ah " fumbled Astro. "Well? Did you or didn't you?" "I guess I sorta did, sir," replied Astro, his face turning a slow red.
I blush to chronicle it. There were so many shows in town that the supply of college students didn't come up to the demand, and as me and the bunch had sorta turned them down after they went and lost all their money on the Thanksgiving game, so we had an intimation that developed into a hunch that our little 'welcome' mat on the doorstep would not be crowded with an eager throng.
He scarcely dared breathe lest the whole thing vanish. A fairy touch on his arm, light as thistle-down, a subtle sense of warmth and a dim, intangible fragrance, and he started, blinking, and then walked on. Something was dry and dusty in his throat. "Golly, the old place sorta gets next to you on a night like this," he thought. "Guess I'd better get in.
"Reporting?" A dubious expression clouded the candid cheerfulness of the other's face. "Yes. What's the matter with that?" "Oh; I dunno. It's a piffling sort of job, ain't it?" "Piffling? How do you mean?" "Well, I supposed you had to ask a lot of questions and pry into other people's business and and all that sorta thing."
"A little while afterward I seen a fellow standin' in the restaurant door. He was a young American dressed in corduroys and boots, like a prospector. You know it's no onusual fact to see prospectors in these parts. What made me think twice about this one was how big he seemed, how he filled up that door. He looked round the saloon, an' when he spotted Rojas he sorta jerked up.
"Lots er times I go off an' don't come back fer a long time." Not till Miss Madeira comes home, Bruce added out of his own intuition. "Git sorta tired the hills," repeated Piney stubbornly. "Do they stop talking to you, the hills and the woods and the quiet?"