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Updated: June 6, 2025
They asked gravely a question and found an answer that set his heart singing. Beatrice had broken her engagement with Bromfield. "He won't do, Clay. He's off color." Whitford did a bit of mental acrobatics. "Why do you suppose he took you to Maddock's?" Again Lindsay's appraising gaze rested on his friend. "I've never worked that out to my satisfaction.
"But I was thinking whether you were not perhaps right in your impression that it might be well for you to make Colonel Lapham's acquaintance before a great while." "Has he been suggesting it in any way?" asked Bromfield Corey, laying aside his book and taking his lean knee between his clasped hands. "Oh, not at all!" the young man hastened to reply.
"There would be very little talking at dinner if one only said the things that one was sure of." The others laughed, and Bromfield Corey remarked thoughtfully, "What astonishes the craven civilian in all these things is the abundance the superabundance of heroism. The cowards were the exception; the men that were ready to die, the rule."
But if you force my hand well, that's different." Again Jerry's grin slit his colorless face. He had this poor devil where he wanted him, and he was enjoying himself. "What do you want me to do, then?" cried Bromfield, tiny beads of perspiration on his forehead. "You'll do as I say beat it outa the country till the thing's over with." "But Lindsay will talk." "The boob's padlocked his mouth.
In the darkness "Slim" could do the job, make his getaway along with Dave, and be safe from any chance of identification. Bromfield, to save his own hide, would keep still. If he didn't, Durand was prepared to shift the murder upon his shoulders. The minute-hand of the watch passed down from the quarter to the half and from the half to the three quarters. Still the telephone bell did not ring.
Shortly after one o'clock the entire block between Tremont and Washington, School and Bromfield was one vast seething furnace from whose throat the fire burst now southward and upward with a roar.
"I don't know any other girl half so pretty." "Well, then, better bred." "She is very lady-like, very modest, and pleasing." "Well, more cultivated." "Tom doesn't get on with such people." "Oh, you wish him to marry her, I see." "No, no." "Then you'd better give the dinner to bring them together, to promote the affair." "You know I don't want to do that, Bromfield.
"What do you think of Penelope this month?" "She's a-gitten there," said Herman, pounding his shoe heels. "She's too smart for young Corey. She ought to marry a man like Bromfield. My, wouldn't they talk!" "Did y' get the second bundle of magazines last Saturday?" "Yes; and Dad found something in the Popular Science that made him mad, and he burned it." "Did 'e? Tum-la-la!
He leaned back in his chair, stiffly resolute to show that he was not incommoded by the exchange of these civilities. "Yes," said Bromfield Corey. "Tom has had the pleasure which I hope for of seeing you all. I hope you're able to make him useful to you here?"
Whitford leaned back in his swivel chair and looked steadily at the man to whom his daughter was engaged. "I'm going to the bottom of this, Bromfield. That fellow Durand ought to go to the penitentiary. We're gathering the evidence to send him there. Now he tells me he'll drag you down to ruin with him it he goes. Come clean. Can he do it?" "Well, I wouldn't say " "Don't evade, Bromfield.
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