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I shoved it in my jeans and burnt it over my camp fire next day." "This mixes things up a heap. If Phil is in this thing and it sure looks that way it ties our hands. I'd like to have a talk with Spiker before we do anything." "What's the matter with having a talk with Phil? Why not shove this thing right home to him?" The nester shook his head. "Let's wait a while.
He went rumbling on: "William Arker, of Popolomus, and Miss Myrtle McGee, of Turkey Valley, were united in the holy bonds of matrimony on the sixth ultimo." "Elmer," I said sharply, thumping the floor with a crutch. Spiker turned slowly. "Oh," he exclaimed, "is that you? Excuse me; I was reading the news.
'The C. of B.'s! said Mr. Gulpidge. Mr. Spiker raised his eyebrows, and looked much concerned. 'When the question was referred to Lord I needn't name him, said Mr. Gulpidge, checking himself 'I understand, said Mr. Spiker, 'N. Mr. Gulpidge darkly nodded 'was referred to him, his answer was, "Money, or no release." 'Lord bless my soul! cried Mr. Spiker. "'Money, or no release," repeated Mr.
Henry Spiker was this lady's name; and her husband was there too: so cold a man, that his head, instead of being grey, seemed to be sprinkled with hoar-frost. Immense deference was shown to the Henry Spikers, male and female; which Agnes told me was on account of Mr. Henry Spiker being solicitor to something Or to Somebody, I forget what or which, remotely connected with the Treasury.
My reflections on this theme were still in progress when dinner was announced. Mr. Waterbrook went down with Hamlet's aunt. Mr. Henry Spiker took Mrs. Waterbrook. Agnes, whom I should have liked to take myself, was given to a simpering fellow with weak legs. Uriah, Traddles, and I, as the junior part of the company, went down last, how we could.
I spoke of the sea and the strange things we saw there as we steamed along of the sharks that lolled in our wake, of the great turtles that seemed to sun themselves on the wave-crests, of the pelicans and the schools of flying fishes. Elmer Spiker interrupted to inquire whether the turtles I had seen were "black-legs, red-legs, or yaller-legs."
"He'll look fine in his city clothes, for somehow those city men do dress differently from us country chaps. Now just picture Tim in a in a " Mary was humming softly to herself. The county paper always comes on Thursday. This was Thursday. Elmer Spiker sat behind the stove, in a secluded corner, the light of the lamp on the counter falling over his left shoulder on the leading column of locals.
He was lost in the darkness, and I started after him. "Ain't you comin'?" cried Nanny Pulsifer. "I must go back to Warden's," I answered. "Then we'll go with you," said Mrs. Spiker firmly. "Can't you go on home?" I said testily. "There's no use of your troubling yourself further." "Does you think we'll walk by that graveyard alone?" demanded the tavern-keeper's wife.
Every Eastern market was drawn upon for materials, and when these reached Omaha, trains loaded with them were constantly pushed to the front. The chief spiker of the rail gang, taking a fancy to Bucks, invited him to go out with the rail-layers one day, and Bucks took a temporary commission as spike-dropper.
Josiah Nummler's long pole rested on the counter at his side, and his great red hands were spread out to drink in the heat from the glowing bowl of the stove. "It's a-blowin' up most a-mighty, ain't it?" he said, cheerfully. "Any news, Elmer?" "Oh now, go home," grunted Mr. Spiker, rolling his pipe around so the burning tobacco scattered over his knees.
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