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Wittrock had resumed his seat, his head bowed forward and eyes cast down, but hearing the door opening, he glanced up and saw Weaver and Haight, followed by two detectives, ushered into his room. Both of them looked discouraged and broken-spirited. The heart had been taken from them by their arrest, and Wittrock's boldness and defiant manner began to melt as he saw his faint-hearted accomplices.
Now, what am I here for?" "Just so. What ARE you here for?" "You've got the wrong man, Mr. Pinkerton." "Indeed?" "Just now you called me 'Mr. Cummings'." "I should, perhaps, have said Mr. Wittrock." "What did you call me 'Cummings' for, then." "As you christened yourself you ought to know." "I'm arrested, of course, now for what?" "To tell the fact, Mr.
It was all done before I ran across Wittrock near Pacific, and he gave me $2,000 to keep my mouth shut and help plant the plunder." "Do you know where it is planted?" "Part of it, yes. Weaver and another fellow named Haight have some hid in Chicago. Some is hid in the graveyard near Leaven worth, and some of it behind Cook's cooper-shop." "Has Fotheringham got any of it?"
The above-mentioned elementary forms belong to the flora of southern France, and Wittrock has isolated and cultivated a number of others from the fields of Sweden. A species from Stockholm is called Viola patens; V. arvensis curtisepala occurs in Gotland, and V. arvensis striolata is a distinct form, which has appeared in his cultures without its true origin being ascertained.
Wittrock, it is because some time last October you played a little joke on the Adams Express Company, and they appreciated it so highly that they hired me to find you so that they could tell you so." "You dare accuse me of committing that robbery?" "That's about the size of it." "Why, man, I wasn't within five hundred miles of the place when it occurred." "Where were you?" "I was in New Orleans."
Even three-angled pollen grains are seen sometimes. Other marks are observed in the form of the anthers and the spur. There seem to be very many local subspecies of the field-pansy. Jordan has described some from the vicinity of Lyons, and Wittrock others from the northern parts of Europe.
You've arrested me without cause, and if there is any law in the land I'll make you suffer for it," and Wittrock walked excitedly around the room. Mr. Pinkerton did not reply to this, but touching a bell, told the man who opened the door to bring in the other prisoners.
His passionate outburst over Wittrock regained his composure, and lighting a cigar, gave one to Haight, remarking in a light tone: "I beg your pardon, old man, I didn't mean to hurt you." "Next time don't take me for Moriarity," puffing the peace-offering. "Do you know whom I would like to see? Those two chaps that arrested me."
"You wouldn't dare say that outside of this room." "Don't get excited, Mr. Wittrock. We have had enough bantering. You might as well make a clean breast of the whole affair, for we have a clear case against you." "I tell you I was at New Orleans at the time." "You were not. Listen to me and I can prove you are a liar." Wittrock flushed, and he began to get angry, which was just what Mr.
"Yes, I do; you gave me enough cause last night to remember you all my life." "Suah enough, Massa Cummins," broke in Chip, imitating Scip's voice. Wittrock gazed at the speaker, and in astonishment, cried: "Scip!" "Suah as you bawn, honey, I's de same ole Scip." "And you?" turning to Sam. "Doctor Skinner, at your service," "Then you're the two I have to thank for my being here."
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