United States or Saint Pierre and Miquelon ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


There was a choked cry, the thud as of something dropping on the floor and then Jimmie Dale spoke. "Put your hands up over your head!" he breathed grimly and, as the other obeyed, his own hand fell away from the man's throat, and in a quick, deft sweep over the other's clothing located the bulge of a revolver, and whipped it from the man's pocket.

In the second act she apparently changed her personality with her clothes, and whirled in astride over two horses with neither saddle nor bridle, guiding them and keeping them together by the pressure of her feet. She had full skirts, to her knees, of white satin, and pearl-coloured silk stockings. Her satin bodice was cut heart-shaped and there was a high jewelled band round her long throat.

"I know, I know," replied the captain eagerly. "You silenced the French brawler with it at Namur. There's the catch in my throat again. Something will happen to-day, gentlemen, something will surely happen." The fencing-master grasped the front of his ruff with his left hand and set the glass on the table with his right.

He was in the act of levelling his pistol, when the animal advanced quickly a couple of steps and made a tremendous leap at his throat. The act was unexpected, but at the instant of his leaving the ice Monteith let fly with one chamber at him.

I tell you that our own country, even, may bite the dust a conqueror's hand lay heavy upon her throat; and yet, no matter. Through the valley of fire and blood and pestilence one must pass through these to the great white land." "Amen!" David Ross cried fervently. "The gift is upon you to-day, Aaron. Amen!" The two stood together for a moment, speechless, carried away out of themselves.

Henshaw would mind if he didn't smoke so much, except, of course, in the close-ups. His throat was dry and rough, his voice husky. His companion had evidently played more smoking parts and seemed not to mind it. Henshaw was now opposite them across the dancing floor, warning his people to be gay but not too gay. The glamour of this night life must be a little dulled.

Let it be to-day. You have called me 'father' three times, and it is worth it. I will attend to it. She shall be brought hither. Agreed, I tell you. It has already been put into verse. This is the ending of the elegy of the 'Jeune Malade' by Andre Chenier, by Andre Chenier whose throat was cut by the ras . . . by the giants of '93."

Kirby, jerked from off his feet from behind, his head forced down against the wooden sill, with throat gripped remorselessly in my clutch, could give utterance to no outcry, nor effectively exert his strength to break free. I throttled the very breath out of him, knowing that I must conquer then and there, silently, and with no thought of mercy. I was battling for her life, and my own.

When he was gone I what do men do sometimes when starvation is on them, and they have a hunger of hell to live? I did that shameless thing and he was my brother!... I lived, and was saved." Lawless shrank away from the man, but words of horror got no farther than his throat.

A great lump was in his throat indeed and his eyes smarted, but he had considered himself too old for tears almost since he could walk, and now with the realization that he was near shedding them, he forced his shoulders back, shut his square jaw and resolved that he would be a man, come what might. Darkness settled over the river mouth.