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Updated: June 14, 2025
We shall see." Mr. Francis Charles Boland, propped up on one elbow, sprawled upon a rug spread upon the grass under a giant willow tree at Mitchell House, deep in the Chronicles of Sir John Froissart. Mr. Ferdinand Sedgwick tip-toed unheard across the velvet sward. He prodded Frances Charles with his toe. "Ouch!" said Francis Charles. "You'll catch your death of cold. Get up!
Indeed. They might as well stay here; we can surely protect them." "Perhaps, for you have skill, Boland, and you are cautious, but is it fair for ladies to stay in this isolated spot with murderers about? When the ladies come back, they must be sent at once to Spanish Town. Can't you see?" Darius Boland bowed.
But drivel and drool very excellent words." Mr. Thompson took a cigar and seated himself, expectant and happy. "Boland, what did you come here for, anyhow?" demanded Ferdie explosively. "Do you play tennis? Do you squire the girls? Do you take a hand at bridge? Do you fish? Row? Swim? Motor? Golf? Booze? Not you! Might as well have stayed in New York.
"But I've got a good ranch and a bunch of cattle, if you happen to know anything about them." "Pete! Pete! That's enough," urged Boland. Pete shook him off. "Mind your own business, will you?" he snapped. "I'm going to show Mr. Something Dewing how it feels." The gambler smiled coldly. "Johnson, you're an old blowhard!
Why should this one man who seemed capable and had the temperament of the Irish hills and vales be the victim of punishment and shame why should he shame her? Suddenly, without her mother's knowledge, she sent Darius Boland through the hills in the early morning to Enniskillen, Dyck Calhoun's place, with a letter which said only this: "Is it not time that you came to wish us well in our new home?
We have the door open in Virginia, but not in that way. We welcome, but we don't debauch." The governor smiled. "As you haven't old friends here, you should make your life a success ah, there is the open door, Boland, and your mistress standing in it. But I come without my family, and with no fell purposes. I will not debilitate the cook; I will not exhaust the fowl-yard.
Calhoun will have to take his fill on his own land from the day I send him the command of the London Government." "And what day will that be, your honour?" To be questioned by one who had been a revolutionary was distasteful to the governor. "That day will be when I find the occasion opportune, my brave Boland," he said sourly. "Why 'brave, your honour?" There was an ominous light in Darius' eye.
I wasn't five feet from Tweel, and it took a terrific struggle, but I managed to raise my revolver and put a Boland shell into the beast. Out came a spurt of horrible black corruption, drenching Tweel and me and I guess the sickening smell of it helped to destroy the illusion of that valley of beauty.
But poor Boland, by this time, was ill at ease in body. He was not inexperienced in hard riding of old; and in his home on the northern tip of Manhattan, where the Subway goes on stilts and the Elevated runs underground, he had allowed himself the luxury of a saddle horse and ridden no little, in a mild fashion. But he was in no way hardened to such riding as this. Mr.
"What are you going to do or take water?" "Won't there ever be any more hands of poker dealt?" asked Pete. "If I thought this was to be the last hand ever played, I'd sure plunge right smart on this bunch of mine." "Weakening, eh?" sneered Dewing. "That's enough, Pete," said Boland, very much vexed. "We're playing table stakes. This is no way to do. Show what you've got and let's get out of this."
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