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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Stop, or I'll arrest the whole danged lot of ye fer fast drivin'!" roared Burkett, gathering up reins and whip. And with that he dashed into the place behind Enos Jackson and crowded the bicyclists to the side of the road. Our county town is a small one, and at the pace set by Maud it didn't take us long to reach the far side and sweep out on the highway which leads, eventually, to Boston.
She repeated enthusiastically: "We need not worry any more. He has but to say a word and these proceedings will be instantly dropped. They would not dare act against his veto. Did you hear, father, your case is as good as won!" "What do you mean, child? Who is this unknown friend?" "Surely you can guess when I say the most powerful man in the United States? None other than John Burkett Ryder!"
He considered a little "Not much nearer than we now are," he answered. "What chance, then, have we of making ourselves heard, and getting help from them?" again asked Cousin Silas. "None," said Burkett, in a sad tone. "Then it must be done!" exclaimed Cousin Silas, in a firm tone. "Friends, one of us must endeavour to reach the shore by swimming. The risk is great.
Jorkins said to give you this and master wanted to see you as soon as you had finished your breakfast." Shirley tore open the envelope and took out the contents. It was a cheque, payable to her order for $5,000 and signed "John Burkett Ryder." A deep flush covered the girl's face as she saw the money a flush of annoyance rather than of pleasure.
"Another friend like that of yesterday?" he asked. "No," replied the girl, "listen. I am in earnest now and I want you to help me. You said that no one on earth could resist John Burkett Ryder, that no one could fight against the Money Power. Well, do you know what I am going to do?" There was a quiver in her voice and her nostrils were dilated like those of a thoroughbred eager to run the race.
Jorkins said to give you this and master wanted to see you as soon as you had finished your breakfast." Shirley tore open the envelope and took out the contents. It was a cheque, payable to her order for $5,000 and signed "John Burkett Ryder." A deep flush covered the girl's face as she saw the money a flush of annoyance rather than of pleasure.
JOHN BURKETT RYDER, per B. Shirley almost shouted from sheer excitement. At first she was alarmed the name John Burkett Ryder was such a bogey to frighten bad children with, she thought he might want to punish her for writing about him as she had. She hurried to the porch and sat there reading the letter over and over and her brain began to evolve ideas.
"Jerry," I exclaimed, "where can our friends be all this time? Is it possible that they can have been among the grass, and that the fire may have caught them up? Good Cousin Silas, and Mr Burkett, and jolly Mr Kilby. Poor fellows! we may be much better off than they are." "Oh, don't talk about it," said Jerry, shuddering; "it is too dreadful.
He opened a drawer at the left-hand side of his desk and took out several sheets of foolscap and a number of letters. Shirley's heart beat faster as she caught sight of the letters. Were her father's among them? She wondered what kind of work John Burkett Ryder had for her to do and if she would do it whatever it was. Some literary work probably, compiling or something of that kind.
The critics all conceded that it was the book of the year, and that it portrayed with a pitiless pen the personality of the biggest figure in the commercial life of America. "Although," wrote one reviewer, "the leading character in the book is given another name, there can be no doubt that the author intended to give to the world a vivid pen portrait of John Burkett Ryder.
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