United States or Nigeria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The fusillade of shots recommenced, but a groan had started and spread among the watchers at the windows. "What is it?" Billie's tone was still steady, but a chill had crept into her veins. "They've got a new battering-ram; looks like a telegraph pole! No door could hold against it," Baggott muttered. "It's all up with us now!"
Jim Baggott began in the voice of a showman. "I'll have to ask you gentlemen to step this way, all of you. It's a real-pressing little matter of business you're all concerned in, and the ladies can come, too, if they feel like it. There'll be more ladies present shortly."
"You will listen to reason, I know, when you have had time for consideration. Mr. Baggott, here, will agree with me that you must accept the conditions of your grandfather's will " "Mr. Baggott will do nothing of the kind," vociferated that gentleman, suddenly.
"I'm here on business, Mr. Baggott," the stranger replied promptly to his host's tactfully implied question. "Did you ever hear of a gambler known as 'Gentleman Geoff'? I understand he located somewhere about here ten years ago." "Hear of him?" Jim repeated gruffly, and turned his head away. "He was one of our most prom'nent citizens; ran the Blue Chip over yonder." "Indeed?"
He felt a hot surge of resentment as the subdued murmur of masculine voices and jarring laughter floated after him. What an environment for such a girl! After a hasty wash-up and a meal he sought further enlightenment from his landlord. It was promptly and enthusiastically forthcoming. "The Blue Chip?" Jim Baggott tilted his chair back restfully against the wall.
"Will you state the nature of this meeting to which you have called us, Mr. Baggott? We are waiting to learn." "I'm waiting, too!" confessed Jim. "I've got my orders gosh almighty! Here she comes!" Unheard, a single touring-car had slipped across the plaza and halted before the entrance.
Ripley Halstead sat as though turned to stone, his wife had collapsed in her chair and Mason North's head was buried in his hands. Winthrop with his arm across his father's shoulders met Vernon's dazed eyes and with one accord they turned to Willa. Her quiet, set, terrible smile was unchanged, but her face had blanched and with an effort she motioned to Jim Baggott.
Baggott, the executor, informed me that the sale of your foster father's establishment alone netted two hundred thousand dollars and there are other securities and bank deposits, besides. He very ill-advisedly turned them over to you, but you, of course, cannot think of handling such a sum on your own initiative. It must be invested under mature judgment, and you are still a minor.
Can we talk here privately without interruption, Mr. Baggott? No, don't go!" as Jim started for the door. "As the chief executor of ah, Gentleman Geoff, you are presumably this young lady's de-facto guardian and your presence is imperative." Considerably impressed, Jim turned a chair around and seated himself astride it, folding his arms across the back. "Fire away.
"Whether you're here for health, pleasure, or business there ain't a more up-and-comin' town this side o' the Rio than Limasito," Jim Baggott remarked with the air of publicity-promoter as he "set 'em up" for a plump, white-mustached stranger, who had drawn up to the hotel an hour before in an impressive car, and whose equally impressive array of luggage was even then distributed about the best suite the establishment afforded.
Word Of The Day