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Updated: May 8, 2025
Agitated, nervous, and eventually astonished as Captain Rayner had been when the colonel had revealed to him the nature of Clancy's confession, he was far more excited and tremulous when he returned a second time. The commanding officer had been sitting deep in thought.
When she's through with Charleston she'll be through with him, if all I hear of her is true." "Oh, you're mistaken, Mrs. Hunter," Ella answered. "She fairly dotes on him, and if he don't marry her he's a worse flirt than she is. Think of Mr. Clancy's blue blood. She undoubtedly appreciates that."
It was Clancy's nose for the more subtle elements in crime which brought him to the small châlet on the private pier at the foot of Eighty-sixth Street that night. He could not guess what game he might flush, but he was keen as a bloodhound in the chase. Meanwhile, Senator Meiklejohn encountered Ronald Tower the moment he re-entered the palatial club.
"Anybody called for her recently?" "I think not, but I'll soon find out." No. Mrs. Tower's appreciation of Belasco's genius had not been disturbed that evening. "Anything wrong?" inquired the manager. Clancy's answer was ready. "If Senator Meiklejohn comes here within half an hour, see that the lady is told at once," he said. "If he doesn't show up in that time, send for Mr.
"Oh, to think that people of the very best blood in the State, who once had scores of slaves to work for them, should be so wronged, robbed and reduced!" Mara heaved a long, weary sigh, and Clancy's words would repeat themselves again and again. She saw how utterly incapable her aunt was to render any assistance in their desperate straits.
He showed surprise, as well he might, but was by no means pulverized. "All this is rather marvelous," he said slowly, after a long pause. He had avoided Clancy's gaze after the first few words, and sank into an armchair with an air of weariness that was not assumed. "Simple enough," commented the detective readily. Above all else he wanted Meiklejohn to talk.
Skin, bones, and tongue are your chief constituents. I'm not surprised you make an occasional hit as a detective, because the average crook would never suspect a funny little gazook like you of being that celebrated sleuth, Eugene Clancy." Clancy's long, nervous fingers had cracked the wrapper of the cigar given him by Curtis, and he was now passing it to and fro beneath his nostrils.
Dooley, "Clancy's son was in here this mornin', an' he says a frind iv his wint to sleep out in th' open wan night, an' whin he got up his pants assayed four ounces iv goold to th' pound, an' his whiskers panned out as much as thirty dollars net." "If I was a young man an' not tied down here," said Mr. Hennessy, "I'd go there: I wud so." "I wud not," said Mr. Dooley.
Clancy was imploring them not to let him go, he was wild-like again; it was drink; he had the horrors, and was batin' her while she was tryin' to get him home. And Clancy's appearance bore out her words. He was wild and drunken; but he swore he meant no harm; he struggled hard for freedom; he vowed he only wanted to see the lieutenant at his quarters; and Mr.
"Askin' yer pardon, sir, I did," began the man, unsteadily, and evidently struggling with the fumes of the liquor he had been drinking; but before he could speak again, Mrs. Clancy's shrieks rang out on the still air: "Oh, for the love of God, howld him, some o' ye's! He'll kill him! He's mad, I say! Shure 'tis I that know him best. Oh, blessed Vargin, save us!
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