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Updated: May 21, 2025
"I think we've got it under control," said Bert, as he saw the flames beginning to die down. "If we don't have any more explosions, we'll be all right." Fortunately there were no more, and, though the factory was badly damaged, the larger part of it was saved. But that was nothing compared to the satisfaction the members of the department felt over Bert's brave act.
Bobbsey replied. "And these two boys?" asked the camera man. "No, only one of the boys is mine," and Bert's father nodded at his son. "The other is my nephew." "Do you live around here?" the man went on. "Excuse my asking you so many questions," he continued. "My name is Weston, and I have charge of making these moving pictures.
Bert's father found out, and he come round, and I thought he was a-going to lick me about the eye, and he licked Bert! Say, am I Lin's, honest?" "No, Billy, you're not," I said. "Wish I was. They couldn't get me back to Laramie then; but, oh, bother! I'd not go for 'em! I'd like to see 'em try! Lin wouldn't leave me go. You ain't married, are you? No more is Lin now, I guess.
"Po' child, she hasn't got a brother, nor anyone to depend on now in the hour of her bitteh need!" Bert's heart leaped. "Just tell me!" he begged. "And what about trains, and arrangements? Will she go down? And clothes? would she need something " This last item had been attended. Mama and Sis' Sally Anne had gone down town, po' child, she didn't want much.
The whole "Maroon" team was on him in an instant, but the fearful headway of his charge had carried him through nine of the coveted twelve yards and the goal post loomed almost directly overhead. "Buck up, fellows, buck up," screamed Halliday wildly. "For heaven's sake, brace!" Bert's head was buzzing with the impact of that mighty plunge, but his eyes blazed with the light of coming triumph.
The other tradesmen of the town, I am bound to say, exhibited a friendly interest in my venture which was always welcome and often helpful. Even one of my competitors showed himself to be a dead sport by coming to me from time to time with hints and advice. He was an entirely worthy person who advertised his restaurant as "Bert's Place."
Before the savage had a chance to shout a warning, however, Bert had grasped him by the throat with one hand, while he rained blows from the clubbed revolver on him with the other. The Indian made a desperate attempt to loose his assailant's hold and secure the knife from his girdle, but Bert's attack was too fierce and deadly.
"What in the name of sense and Tom Walker was the matter with you, Bert?" demanded Don, as soon as the two were out of David's hearing. "My arm is all black and blue, I know!" "I didn't want you to say too much," was Bert's reply, "and I didn't know any other way to stop your talking. There was a listener close by." "A listener! Who was it?" "David's brother.
"Lay hold of it," said the man in the car, and his face appeared close to Bert's a strangely familiar face, fierce eyebrows, a flattish nose, a huge black moustache. He had discarded coat and waistcoat perhaps with some idea of presently having to swim for his life and his black hair was extraordinarily disordered. "Will all you people get hold round the car?" he said.
But the fact is there were unusual elements in this temptation, such as have been already set forth, and Bert's course of action from the time when he first saw the translation of Sallust in Regie Selwyn's room, until when at length after days of indecision, of halting between two opinions, of now listening to, and again spurning the suggestions of the tempter, he had a copy of the same book hidden away in his own room, was but another illustration of the familiar experience, that he who stops to argue with the tempter, has as good as lost his case.
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