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Updated: June 6, 2025
Daley held out a hand, smiling. "Shake hands on it, Edwards. You may not believe it, but half of er doing a thing consists of making up your mind to it! Well, that's all, I think. Er you'd better look me up this evening and we'll settle about that French. Good-bye. Hope I haven't made you late for dinner."
He was quite another man for his long, refreshing sleep. "Why, what's the matter?" he asked. Andy's companion explained. The clown expressed his sympathy and indignation in the same breath. He urged that the show detectives be aroused at once. "I heard Harding say last night he'd spend a thousand dollars, but he'd get Daley and Murdock behind the bars for attempted murder," declared the clown.
Bull for about a year on the old plantation and was treated like one of the family. After that I worked for my brother on a little farm near the old home place. He was buying his farm from his master, Mr. Tom Daley. I was married on my brother's place to Wade Bledsoe in 1870. He has been dead now about 15 years. His master had given him a small farm but I do not remember his master's name.
I shall have to ask you to prove to me that you are in line with the rest of the class. But you will have a full week to do this and I er I suspect that you will not find it very difficult." Mr. Daley took up a blue pencil and marked a large "D-" on the corner of the blue-book. "You might as well take this now, Edwards. Bring me another composition not later than a week from to-day, please."
Daley stood trembling against the wall, bearing the marks of serious injury upon his face and eyes. "At it again, Daley? Ah! I thought you had left off them tricks!" said the jailer. Daley began to tell a three-cornered story, and to give as many possible excuses, with equally as many characteristic bulls in them. "I don't want to hear your story, Daley," said Mr. Grimshaw. "But, Mr.
No one likely to hear us in this lonely spot, though," spoke the newcomer addressed as Murdock. "Well, what have you to report?" questioned Daley eagerly. "It's all right." "You've fixed it?" "Snug and sure. The show will have a big sensation to-night not down on the bills." The listening Andy heard the man called Daley utter a gratified chuckle. "Good," he said.
You'll be lucky if you don't see him, too. When you call on Josh it's usually because you've been and gone and done something. He will be at Faculty Reception to-morrow evening, though. That's in Upper Hall at eight o'clock. Better go, fellows; everyone does. Have you met your Hall Master, Mr. Daley?" "Yes, we stopped in at his room after supper," answered Steve. "Is he " He hesitated.
Daley had been so awfully decent to him he ought to stop poking fun at him. To which Steve cheerfully made answer that even a mollycoddle could be decent at times! Brimfield played Canterbury High School on a Wednesday afternoon in early October and had a good deal of a scare.
Daley swung around in his chair, viewed the oblong of landscape framed by the window for a moment and swung back again. There was a faint smile about his eyes. "Edwards, you er are a bit disconcerting. I presume you know that the rules require you to be in bed with lights out at ten-thirty?" "Yes, sir." "Hm! And you er deliberately transgressed that rule?" "I didn't see anything else to do, Mr.
Gotta please wifely when you hic been out al' night. Wheresh my gold-mounted paper cutter, Darcy?" "Harry King, and stewed to the gills again!" murmured Pete Daley. "Wow! he has some bun on!" "Wheresh my paper cutter, Darcy?" went on King, smiling in a fashion meant to be merry, but which was fixed and glassy as to his eyes. "Wheresh my li'l preshent for wifely?
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