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Thorndike had risen, and, in farewell, was holding out his hand to Andrews. He turned, and across the court-room the eyes of the financier and the stenographer met. At the sight of the great man, Spear flushed crimson, and then his look of despair slowly disappeared; and into his eyes there came incredulously hope and gratitude. He turned his head suddenly to the wall. Mr.
The chief clerk and two bank messengers were waiting by the automobile with written calls for help from the office. They pounced upon the banker and almost lifted him into the car. "There's still time!" panted the chief clerk. "There is not!" answered Mr. Thorndike. His tone was rebellious, defiant. It carried all the authority of a spoiled child of fortune.
He continued to have convulsions throughout the night, and as many as five interns were required to hold him quiet. These convulsions seemed to have enough purpose in them to warrant the diagnosis of hysteria, so the next morning he was referred to me. "Last Wednesday night," he said, "I was having dinner with a customer at the Hotel Thorndike.
"There's a thief in the village a guest at the hotel whom I recognize as one of the most expert burglars in the country." "I think I know whom you mean, a man of moderate height, rather thick set, with small, black eyes and a slouch hat." "Exactly." "What can you tell me about him?" Mr. Thorndike repeated the statement he had already made to Carl.
Andrews took out a cigarette and, as he crossed the floor, lit it. "Come with me," he commanded. Somewhat puzzled, slightly annoyed, but enjoying withal the novelty of the environment and the curtness of his reception, Mr. Thorndike followed. He decided that, in his ignorance, he had wasted his own time and that of the prosecuting attorney. He should at once have sent in his card to the judge.
"Now that he's in Sing Sing?" corrected Mr. Andrews. "I hope so! She deserves it. That son of yours, Mrs. Bernard," he declared emphatically, "is no good!" The brutality shocked Mr. Thorndike. For the woman he felt a thrill of sympathy, but at once saw that it was superfluous. From the secure and lofty heights of motherhood, Mrs.
Andrews, "he's with ME." They entered the court and passed down an aisle to a railed enclosure in which were high oak chairs. Again, in his effort to follow, Mr. Thorndike was halted, but the first tipstaff came to his rescue. "All right," he signalled, "he's with Mr. Andrews." Mr. Andrews pointed to one of the oak chairs.
Thorndike stepped into the gloom of an echoing rotunda, shut in on every side, hung by balconies, lit, many stories overhead, by a dirty skylight. The place was damp, the air acrid with the smell of stale tobacco juice, and foul with the presence of many unwashed humans.
For those interested in the following up of the problem of English composition this scale will prove interesting and valuable. Several scales have been developed for the measurement of the ability of children in reading. Among them may be mentioned the scale derived by Professor Thorndike for measuring the understanding of sentences.
Buffalo Bill and Thorndike had lolled both of those toughs.
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