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Holt, senior, and ask his advice and aid in protecting Starr; but to his dismay he found that Mr. Holt, senior, had been taken seriously ill with heart trouble, and it might be weeks before he was able to return to the office. Deeply grieved and utterly baffled, the young man tried to think what to do next. The junior Mr.
"Was it your father who wrote telling me to come to the Yarrow shaft?" "No, it was I." "Then did Simon Ford send me a second letter to contradict the first?" asked the engineer quickly. "No, Mr. Starr," answered the young miner. "Very well," said Starr, without speaking of the anonymous letter. Then, continuing, "And can you tell me what you father wants with me?" "Mr.
We pass on to Stockton, still a favorite residence street; turning south we pass, near Sacramento, the church in which Starr King first preached, now proudly owned by the negro Methodists. At Post we reach Union Square, nearly covered by the wooden pavilion in which the Mechanics' Institute holds its fairs.
Tim was standing defiantly among the Sioux, who appeared to be discussing the question of what to do with him. He identified Starcus, and recognized also the hapless state of affairs. Much as he regretted the conclusion, Warren Starr was forced, in spite of himself, to see that it was out of his power to raise a finger to help his friend.
They too, were photographed; and after many politenesses had been exchanged, Starr came to ask if I thought the dear things' feelings would be hurt by a small offering of money. "They may, and probably will be if the offering is small," said I, dryly. "What are you insinuating?" exclaimed Nell.
This is the young man who is employed by Brendon Breslin," Jack replied. "Employed by Brendon Breslin!" exclaimed Mr. Starr. "Is Mr. Breslin around here?" "Gone to the city to-day," replied Paul, "but I take him home every night in the Peter Pan. That's what he wants the best boat on the lake for." "He always believed me, and never wanted me to go away," Mr. Starr said.
He staggered and went down headlong in a clump of greasewood, and at the same instant the report of a rifle came clearly from the high pinnacle at the head of Sunlight Basin. Helen May came running, her face white with horror, for she had seen Starr fall just as the sound of the shot came to tell her why. She did not cry out, but she rushed to where he lay half concealed in the bushes.
Either Nell could not or would not reply to questions, but that some secret existed in connection with the place, which she could have explained, was manifest. "Should you like to stay with us? Should you like to go back to where we found you?" asked James Starr. "Oh, yes!" exclaimed the maiden, in answer to his first question; but a cry of terror was all she seemed able to say to the second.
With equal ease Bixby laid the disks carefully on the flange of the sill of the vault. Then he took the cloth from the desk, went to the vault, stooped and thumped his head up against the projecting lever. He went into the vault and carefully pulled the door shut after him, both hands on the main bolt. Starr was silent for some moments, exchanging looks with the cashier.
Sidney Starr relates that Whistler was asked one year to "hang" the exhibits in the Walker Art Gallery at Liverpool. In the center of one wall he placed Luke Fildes's "Doctor," and surrounded it with all the pictures he could find of dying people, convalescents, still-life medicine bottles, and the like. This caused comment.
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