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Updated: May 12, 2025


Oates' pony, a spirited, nervous creature, got away at start when his head was left for a moment and charged through the camp at a gallop; finally his sledge cannoned into another, the swingle tree broke, and he galloped away, kicking furiously at the dangling trace. Oates fetched him when he had quieted down, and we found that nothing had been hurt or broken but the swingle tree.

Thin I heard Spitfire clatterin' away in the dark an' I ran, draggin' the little goat after me to get past the place where the unchancy ould road dips down. Somewan cannoned into me runnin' out o' the dark road. I couldn't see his face, but he cursed me, an' I felt his hairy hands round me neck and me scratchin' and tearin' at them.

Ashe rediscovered George's throat and began to squeeze it afresh; and a pleasant time was being had by all when the Efficient Baxter, whizzing down the stairs, tripped over Ashe's legs, shot forward and cannoned into another table, also covered with occasional china and photographs in frames.

Unable to stop herself, Toni cannoned violently into her husband, and the unfortunate youth from Sandhurst, brought to an unexpected halt, found himself face to face with an unknown man whose expression was not exactly inviting. "Owen, is it you? How you startled me!" Toni lifted two sparkling eyes to her husband's face. "When did you come? You said you wouldn't be home till after ten!"

"He must be, to make you hurry in such fashion. Why, you wouldn't have gone faster for a free pint." "I consider that an impertinent observation." With tilted nose the man turned and cannoned against Hume. "Here!" cried the latter. "Run to the stables and get me a horse and trap. If they are ready in two minutes I'll give you two shillings."

They sky was rent with the fierce play of the elements. Yet on Hannah ran. Again and again the lightning hit her, but she ran on still. She fell over the stones, tripped and stumbled in the ruts, butted into the hedges, cannoned off against the stone walls. But she never stopped. She went quicker and quicker. The storm was awful. Lightning, fire, flame, and thunder were all about her.

As I came out again, I cannoned into a little man who was just entering. I drew aside and apologised, when suddenly, with a loud exclamation, he clasped me in his arms and kissed me warmly. "Mon ami Hastings!" he cried. "It is indeed mon ami Hastings!" "Poirot!" I exclaimed. I turned to the pony-trap. "This is a very pleasant meeting for me, Miss Cynthia.

Suddenly Julius came to such an abrupt halt that Tommy cannoned into him. "What's up?" he inquired. "Look there. If that doesn't beat the band!" Tommy looked. Standing out half obstructing the path was a huge boulder which certainly bore a fanciful resemblance to a "begging" terrier. "Well," said Tommy, refusing to share Julius's emotion, "it's what we expected to see, isn't it?"

We turned right-handed and after a struggle came up against three lorry drivers hopelessly marooned. They had turned in. Up a greasy bank we came to a stop and slid back. We tried again and failed. I relieved the car of my weight and made an effort to push it from behind, but my feet held fast in the mud and the car cannoned into me when it skidded downhill.

Then suddenly up leapt the hat, cannoned from a lamp-post on to the railings of the Queen Street Gardens, from them across the pavement into the gutter, and there, getting nicely on edge, careered like a hoop, with the thud of Heriot's footsteps growing fainter behind. Down the next cross street came two acquaintances of the Writer to the Signet, and they stopped at the corner in amazement.

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