Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 28, 2025
Nan and Bess had brought little "Buster," as the spaniel had been named, into their section and, having been fed and made warm, he gave the girls hardly any trouble during the night. Selfish Mr. Bulson, who had shipped the puppy home to his little boy, seemed to have no interest whatsoever in Buster's welfare.
"Do you girls know the owner of this pup? You seem to know everybody." "We know a Mr. Ravell Bulson by sight, Mr. Carter," Nan said quietly. "And he's just the meanest man!" began impulsive Bess; but her chum stopped her with a glance. "Well! Mr. Ravell Bulson, Jr., has a fine pup here," declared the conductor, releasing the agitated little creature.
From that cow-tree your friend was telling us about?" "What's this about fresh milk?" asked Mr. Carter. "Be still, Bulson. You roar to fit your name. We can't hear the little lady." "Who's that?" snarled the excited Bulson, glaring at Nan. "How came that girl on this train? Isn't that the Sherwood girl?" But nobody paid the fat man much attention just then. The crew crowded after Nan and Mr.
It would cool you off." "Come, Bess!" urged Nan, anxiously. "Let's go away. We'll get the milk for the puppy afterward. I'm afraid there will be trouble." "I wish they would throw that mean old Bulson into the snow. He deserves it," Bess returned bitterly. "Do let's go away," Nan said again, as the men's voices became louder.
"What's that?" exclaimed Bulson, his eyes fairly bulging out with surprise. "You are going to open the case of canned milk for the benefit of all hands?" said Mr. Carter, sternly. "Wha what do you take me for?" blurted out the fat man, indignantly. "Why, that's my milk! I'm not going to give it to anybody. What do you take me for?" he repeated. The disgust and indignation with which Mr.
A part of the money they had brought back from Scotland had already been used in fitting up a handsome showroom and garage on the main street of Tillbury; and some other heavy expenses had fallen upon Mr. Sherwood, for which he would, however, be recompensed by the sale of the first few cars. If Ravell Bulson injured Mr. Sherwood's business reputation by his wild charges, or if the company Mr.
Carter eyed him must have plainly shown a less thick-skinned mortal just what the conductor's opinion was. But Mr. Ravell Bulson, like most utterly selfish men, saw nothing. "You must think I'm silly," pursued Bulson. "I shall want but a can or two for myself. Of course they'll come and plow us out before long. And I promised my wife to send that milk home."
"Say! I shipped this package to myself. Here's the receipt," blustered Mr. Bulson. "I guess I can withdraw it from your care if I like." "Guess again, mister," returned the expressman. "You've got three guesses, anyway." The fat man was so assertive and over-bearing that it amused the chums from Tillbury to hear him thus flouted. "I guess you don't know who I am?" cried the choleric fat man.
Bulson's charge would injure his usefulness to the corporation he was about to represent. To sue Bulson for slander would merely give wider circulation to the story the fat man had originated. Ravell Bulson was a traveling man and was not often in Tillbury that was one good thing.
Bulson, I mean. He's forward in the other car, gourmandizing himself on a jar of condensed milk. I let him have one can; but I'm going to hold the rest against emergency. Now that the snow has stopped falling," he added cheerfully, as he passed on, "they ought to get help to us pretty soon." The puppy was ready to cuddle down in his carrier and go to sleep when he had lapped up the milk.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking