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"I forgot all about it. But after the earthquake and all the rest of the fuss I dug it out and gave it to Mr. Thornton. Then on the 27th came the next one, saying that Pax was getting tired of waiting for us and was going to start something. That came at one o'clock in the afternoon, and the fun began at three sharp. The whole observatory went on the blink.
Occasionally the younger man made a remark in a low tone, and the elder wrote something on a card. "The 'seeing' is poor to-night," said Evarts, the younger man. "The upper air is full of striae and, though it seems like a clear night, everything looks dim a volcanic haze probably. Perhaps the Aleutian Islands are in eruption again." "Very likely," answered Thornton, the elder astronomer.
To be chosen by John, would separate a kitchen-wench from the rest of the world. And Miss Hale was not so bad. If she had been a Milton lass, Mrs. Thornton would have positively liked her. She was pungent, and had taste, and spirit, and flavour in her. True, she was sadly prejudiced, and very ignorant; but that was to be expected from her southern breeding.
Thornton was half way down the street. Higgins sighed. But it was no use. To catch him in the street was his only chance of seeing 'the measter; if he had rung the lodge bell, or even gone up to the house to ask for him, he would have been referred to the overlooker.
However, our lands are all much higher than they were a few years ago." "Where does Mr. Thornton live?" asked Percy. "Oh, he lives at Blairville, nearly a hundred miles from Richmond. Yes, he lives on his farm near Blairville. I tell you he's making good all right, but I don't know of any land for sale in that section." "I think I will go out to Blairville to see Mr. Thornton's farm," said Percy.
Standing outside the door leading to the storerooms and cellars was a two-seater car. There was nobody inside or in attendance and I looked at it curiously, not realising at the moment that it was Mr. Thornton Lyne's. What did interest me was the fact that the back gate, which I had left locked, was open.
He would allow himself to be seen only at a distance, as upon the day Winifred Waverly had seen him, or indistinctly at night, and when the time came and the arrest was made there would rise up many men to swear to Buck Thornton.... Broderick himself had already said that he had been robbed of a can of gold dust. He would be ready to swear that Thornton had robbed him.
"So late, you mean," said the Vicar; "he has not been home all night. Now I shall brace up my nerves and speak to him." "My good wishes go with you, Vicar," said the Doctor, and walked on, while the other stopped to speak with George Hawker. "Good morning, Mr. Thornton. You are early a-foot, sir." "Yes, I have been sitting up all night with old Jewel. He is dead."
"Here is William Comstock, United States Deputy Marshal, carrying a message from no less a person than Jimmie Clayton, jail bird, crook and murderer! A man wanted in two states!" "Clayton!" said Thornton in amazement. "You don't mean to tell me...." "Oh, he'd never seen me, you know. Nor I him. But then I've seen his picture more than once and I know all about him.
"I shall visit him to-morrow morning. Now for the doctor." Doctor Thornton was an excellent specimen of the genus physician to the wealthy polished, cool, suave. One of Mr. Andrews's men, as I have said, had seen him already, but the interview had been very unsatisfactory. Evidently, however, the doctor had been turning something over in his mind since then and had thought better of it.
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