United States or Ireland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
As she stared out at the night shapes capering past she felt acute personal shame that she had been tricked into even a brief association with so vile a crew. That uproar of men's voices rang in her ears like a jeering farewell, and she realized that in all probability her flight would appear ridiculous to Bob's friends.
It seems difficult for mothers to comprehend that a normal boy's standing on the school-ground is, like that of a young cock in a barn-yard, simply a matter of mettle and muscle. So it was as early as Bob's second day at school on the first Papa Jack had gone with him that a revelation came both to him and to his mother.
But when he would have counted the three gold pieces he offered into my hand, I saw Bob's honest brown eyes watching me with a look of such faithful affection that I dropped the coins as if they burned, and caught him about the neck to tell him that we would never part.
I arranged with Bob that he was to answer in the event of the said "old Steve" hailing us as we went alongside, and directed him what to say, as Bob's phraseology was habitually seasoned far more highly with nautical slang than was my own, and he would, therefore, be less likely to be suspected in the carrying on of a haphazard conversation than myself.
"That was luck," Welton's voice broke in on Bob's contemplation. "It's just getting dark. Couldn't have done it without the dynamite. It splinters up a little timber, but we save money, even at that." "Billy doesn't carry that with the other supplies, does he?" asked Bob. "Sure," said Welton; "rolls it up in the bedding, or something.
"We'll want a detail drawing showing how to make a foundation for the wheel and generator. Bob's worked out an automatic starting and stopping device. The wiring, of course, we'll do ourselves." "How about an auto truck, Joe; don't you think you ought to have a good auto truck on the farm?" "Not with a team of horses and a good live tractor.
I don't stay here. I'll help hunt for the path too. Now don't go getting nervous, Bobbie, old chap. Two of us can't very well get lost on this mountain. We'll separate enough to keep within hallooing distance, and we'll tie a handkerchief on this tree so we can get back to it again if we want to. We know we're part way down, anyway. That's certain." "I don't feel so sure," was Bob's answer.
"But look at Bob's 'Hidden Treasure' here," smiled Joe Williams; "$400 worth of ice off that little pond, and to think we allowed the neighbors to take away all they wanted for nothing in previous years." "Speaking of 'Hidden Treasure, don't forget the $300 we got for cord wood from the old rail fences, Uncle Joe," said Bob.
In a large chair Sydney lay back languidly, her hands idle upon her lap. The shock of Bob's death had exhausted her, and she found herself spent, physically and emotionally. A book lay open upon her knees, but her eyes closed wearily, or stared unseeing into space.
"'Tis fine an' warm," Bob assented, "an' I'm thinkin' I'm lookin' like an Injun sure enough." Bob's aversion to Manikawan's attentions was wearing off, and he was taking a new interest in her. He very often found himself looking at her and admiring her dark, pretty face and tall, supple form. Sometimes she would glance up quickly and catch him at it, and smile, for it pleased her.
Word Of The Day