Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 3, 2025
"I'll be in better shape inside of two days to tell you something definite. I wish Carey was here. Do you know where he got the money he loaned you?" "I never asked him," Leigh answered. "He borrowed it of Miss Jane Aydelot of Cloverdale, Ohio."
Pryor Gaines, still the teacher-preacher of the Grass River settlement, had come to the Cloverdale Ranch on an errand, and he and Jim Shirley were chatting beside the well curb when Dr. Carey drove up. "Hello, Carey. How did you scent chicken pie so far? And a plum pudding all brown and ready?" Shirley called hospitably.
Horace Carey's representative that Miss Jane Aydelot of Cloverdale was no longer living and much more as unnecessary to the business of the moment as a black-bordered envelope is unnecessary to the business of life. Then he opened a drawer in his small office safe and took out a bundle of letters. "Here's a copy of her will. That's to go to Miss Shirley to read.
No longer limited by fuel weight factors, scientists had been able to load enough shielding into the huge Icarus to protect a man from the deadly bombardment of the Van Allen radiation belts. On September 15th, Sally's Cloverdale Marathon III, having been milked harder and faster than any Guernsey in history, went dry.
Above the door a plain board bore the one word, "Cloverdale." Jim Shirley stood watching Asher coming down the trail against the wind, followed by the big shepherd dog, Pilot, who had bounded off to meet him. "Hello! How did you get away on a day like this?" he called, as the team drew near. "Why, you old granny!" Asher stopped here.
By keeping to the left, the drive holds on up the Russian River Valley, through the miles of the noted Asti Vineyards to Cloverdale, and then by way of Pieta, Witter, and Highland Springs to Lakeport. Still another way we took, was down Sonoma Valley, skirting San Pablo Bay, and up the lovely Napa Valley.
Hans, for reasons of his own, hurried out of Wykerton and took the first train to Kansas City. All this happened on the day that Darley Champers had made his trip to the Cloverdale Ranch. The fine spring weather of the morning leaped to summer heat in the afternoon, as often happens in the plains country.
Everywhere was the desolation of ignorance and fear, saddening enough, without the Boxer rebellion to intensify it with months of dreadful warfare. As Thaine fell into his place he thought of the Aydelot wheatfields and of the alfalfa that Leigh Shirley's patient judgment had helped to spread over the Cloverdale Ranch.
But Champers was entangled enough to know that he must raise the money required, and the land was the only asset. Few things are more difficult to accomplish than to find a buyer for what must be sold. At the office Leigh was waiting for him. "Mr. Champers, I am Leigh Shirley from the Cloverdale place on Grass River," she said, looking earnestly up at him.
"It's right where we found little Clinton's hat," cried Mrs. Fabens, pale with terror. "O, dear, what can it be? He couldn't have been murdered, my dear Clinton couldn't have been murdered, and that appeared to reveal his fate!" "I'll warrant that's it!" answered Teezle. "Square Peasley seen a light, and heerd a gugglin' groan where the pedlar had his throat cut in Cloverdale, you know."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking