United States or Eswatini ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I think so," answered the Little Captain. "It will not take much longer, and we may find Tom there. If we do, all our troubles will be over. I think we had better go up." "But it's getting dark so fast," objected Grace. "Then a little more dark won't make much difference," returned Mollie with a shrug. "Go on, Betty." The Gem chugged her way up "Alligator Brook," as the girls had named it.
She got quickly to her feet and groped for the swinging barrel, turning it swiftly over the hole the liquid chugged softly against its side and stopped. Her breath listened up into the darkness. The door above creaked again softly and a shuffling foot groped at the stair. "You down there Lena?" called an old voice. She laughed out softly, moving toward the stair. "Go to bed, father."
Men in uniform were everywhere; the civilian population seemed almost to have disappeared. The din was constant. For hours, after he had been taken to a cell in the central police station, he lay awake and listened. Guns rumbled through the streets, motor cars chugged all through the night.
It sapped his powers of resistance. In the morning there was the doctor, a weary little man, untemperamental and mercifully impervious to insult, who chugged up the lane in a car that needed but one twist of the crank to release a great many clattering things. All of them Kenny felt should be anchored more securely. There was an occasional hour in the open.
She had to feel her way along, but even at that the boat frequently bumped into the bank. Reaching the lake, she paused to look and listen. Not more than ten rods above she saw lights on the shore of the island and a light on the water. A motor boat chugged a few times, the plash of an oar followed, then more shouts. "I simply must find out what is going on there," muttered Harriet.
It requires that a man keep at a trot the livelong day, and it demands a good heart and good lungs and staying powers and plenty of grit, and Grenfell was well equipped with all of these. The menacing Arctic ice pack lay a mile or so seaward when Grenfell and one companion turned their backs on St. Anthony, and the motor boat chugged southward, out of the harbor and along the coast.
Clouds of blue smoke arose from where the proprietor of a small biplane had drenched his cylinders with too much oil. Occasionally an auto or a motor cycle chugged up, and the early comers watched with intense interest the flying men preparing for their trial flights. Frank and Harry paid little attention to the others as they drew on their gloves, and carefully inspected their propellers.
Then, with many good-byes on both sides, the power boat chugged away toward the Tramp Club camp, the Meadow-Brook Girls turning to the duties of the day. The first task was to get their clothing in condition. There was now no one to interfere with them. Flatirons were put on the oil stove, which was once more in working order, and the work of pressing out their wrinkled clothing was begun.
Of course every eye was instantly turned back, and they were just in time to see something that announced the truth of Jud's assertion. Andy Flinn stood up in the bow of the second boat, which no longer chugged away as before, and he threw something out that splashed in the water. "It's their anchor!" cried Jud. "Either somebody's overboard, or else their motor's broken down!"
When we chugged along the shore, and slackened opposite our camp, I heard the stern voice of Lafitte hail us: "Ship ahoy!" "Aye! Aye! mate!" I answered, through my cupped hands. "Bear a hand with our landing line." Whereat my hardy band came running and made us fast. "What has gone wrong, Black Bart?" demanded L'Olonnois, uncertain of my status. "Hast met mishap and struck colors?" "By no means!"
Word Of The Day