United States or Ukraine ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Then she cried out, and wished for Milt to share her exultation. Rather earnestly she said to Mr. Boltwood: "The mountains must be so wonderful to Mr. Daggett, after spending his life in a cornfield. Poor Milt! I hope " "I don't think you need to worry about that young man. I fancy he's quite able to run about by himself, as jolly as a sand-dog.
Between people they had Views; and the sensible Miss Boltwood, making a philosophic discovery, announced to herself, "After all, I've seen just as much from this limousine as I would from a bone-breaking Teal bug. Silly to make yourself miserable to see things. Oh yes, I will go wandering some more, but not like a hobo. But What can I say to him?
Mynie Boltwood got back from the other side of the bay with a load of clothes, and Hill removed his wet garments, wrung them out, dried them in the sun, and was soon back in his complete wardrobe, and but little the worse for his drenching. Clancy, hoping to develop something in the nature of a clew, searched the pockets of Burton's clothes. He found nothing to repay his search.
No arguments, chick!" On the station platform, Claire and Milt were under the surveillance of Mr. Boltwood, who was extremely irritable as every two minutes the train was reported to be two minutes later. They tramped up and down, speaking in lowered voices, very meek but in their joint naughtiness very intimate. "That was a nice place to end a transcontinental drive in the back yard of Mr.
Milt could hear him commenting, "Doesn't that just get the feeling of the great open, Miss Boltwood?" Milt did not catch her answer. Himself, he grunted, "I never could get much het up about this poetry that's full of Ah's and 'tises." Claire must have seen Milt just after he had sauntered past. She cried, "Oh, Mr. Daggett! Just a moment!" She left Breeches, ran down to Milt. He was frightened.
And may we You've worked so hard, and about saved our lives. May I pay you for that labor? We're really much indebted " "Oh, it wasn't anything. Tickled to death if I could help you." He heartily shook hands with her father, and he droned, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Uh." "Boltwood." "Mr. Boltwood. My name is Milt Milton Daggett. See you have a New York license on your car.
If you touch me again, I'll stop the car and ask you to walk." "Better do it now, dolly!" snapped Mr. Boltwood. The man hooked his left arm about the side-post of the open window-shield. It was a strong arm, a firm grip. He seized her left wrist with his free hand.
When their car and Milt's had been parked in the palisaded corral back of the camp at which they were to stay, they three set out for the canyon's edge chattering, and stopped dumb. Mr. Boltwood declined to descend. He returned to the camp for a cigar. The boy and girl crept down seeming miles of damp steps to an outhanging pinnacle that still was miles of empty airy drop above the river bed.
For one thing, it makes a clever dinner seem so good by contrast!" "Well Afraid I don't know much about clever dinners," Milt was sighing, when he was aware of Jeff Saxton looming down on him, demanding: "Daggett, would you mind trying to inform your friend that neither Mr. Boltwood nor I care to invest in his gold-mine? We can't seem to get that into his head.
"Have our clothes ready for us when we call for them, that's all." "What're you trying to do?" demanded the oarsman. "We've got two fellows to pick up," Clancy answered, "and I'm going to help. Are you a friend of Burton's?" "I get half he makes for handlin' the boat for him." "How long has he been doing this?" "Yesterday and to-day." "And your name is " "Mynie Boltwood."
Word Of The Day