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Updated: May 5, 2025
Callahan goes to the river as Traffic Manager. Mr. Bucks, you know, is the new President; these are his recommendations. What do you think of them?" "No better men on earth for the positions, and I'm mighty glad to see them get what they deserve." "Our idea is to leave you right here in the mountains." It was hard to be left completely out of the new deal, but Glover did not visibly wince.
Callahan is on his way to meet you in the racing car. Keep coming as fast as God'll let you till you meet Callahan. Good-by." Back to Paula, Graham stepped aside as Dick, on his knees, bent over her. His examination was brief. He looked up at Graham with a shake of the head and said: "It's too ticklish to fool with." He turned to Oh Dear. "Put down those spurs and bring pillows.
"How about it, doctor?" he asked. Doctor Arnold, the railway surgeon, a kindly but stern man, answered briefly, "We won't take it off this time. But if he is that careless again we will take his head off." "How old are you, boy?" demanded Callahan. "Seventeen." "Well, your foot isn't hurt," he continued gruffly. "But it's only God's mercy that I got here in time to pull you out of the frog."
He had promised Gertrude he would keep out of the cab, and far across the curve below he could see the Brock car, where Bucks was directing the search on the eastern side of the gulch. Callahan and the linemen were spreading both ways through the timber on the plateau opposite, but the snow made the work extremely difficult, and the short day allowed hardly more than a start.
And they couldn't get it away from him he tore it to pieces, worritin' it like 'twas a cat. He ought to be skinned alive, I say. It's low-down to keep such a dog." "If Peggy had obeyed " began Miss Margery. "Yessum," interrupted Mrs. Callahan. "And nobody's got any business to keep such a dog! We wouldn't 'a' had it happen for the world, ma'am.
"It is raining at Soda Sink," persisted Morrison, mildly. "What?" demanded the general superintendent, pulling his pipe from his mouth. Hughie Morrison kept cool. His straight, black hair lay boyishly smooth across his brow. There was no guile in his expression even though he had stunned Callahan, which was precisely what he had intended. "It is raining at Soda Sink," he repeated.
Technically, thereafter, the general was purveyor for the Army of the Callahan, but to the captain himself he was gallingly to the purveyor simple Flitter Bill.
"You're goin' to get a square deal in this town, my boy," he said, after I had enlarged upon my story sufficiently to make it include my late experience with Callahan and Mullins. "It ain't any part of my job to bruise the broken reed n'r quench the smokin' flax. You don't look like a thief, and, anyways, if you're tryin' to make an honest livin', that settles all the old scores or it ort to.
Chaplain Thomas Callahan, the officer referred to above, in his last report says: "To many of the planters the idea of a negro's testimony being as good as a white man's is very unpleasant, and occasional attempts are made to bully and browbeat a colored witness upon the stand. The attempt is never made twice.
"Where does she live?" inquired Miss Drayton, eagerly. "At the corner of Fairview Avenue, in the big old house that's turned into flats. Was the doll too much to ask, lady?" asked Mrs. Callahan, as Miss Drayton rose to go. "No, oh, no, indeed! You shall have the doll, and things for all the children besides," said Miss Drayton. "Good-morning, Mrs. Callahan. George, drive down Fairview Avenue.
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