Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 11, 2025
She looked at DeGolyer, and her eyes were soft, but for him they no longer held the glow of a mother's love. DeGolyer put down his bag near the door. "Mr. Witherspoon, I hardly know what to say. I came to this house as a lie, but I shall leave it as a truth. "Hank!" young Henry cried, getting up, "you ain't going away. You are going to stay here."
And if you can do anything for this poor fellow you are welcome to, for he's not much use round here." DeGolyer snatched his hat and rushed out into the street. Not a hack was in sight; he could not wait for a car, and he hastened toward the river. He began to run, and a boy cried: "Sick him, Tige." He stopped suddenly and put his hand to his head. "Have I lost my mind?" he asked himself.
DeGolyer followed him to a wretched place that bore the name of a public-house, and went with him into a room. A lamp sputtered on a shelf. Young Sawyer caught DeGolyer's hands. "I have waited so long for you to come back to this dreadful place. I am all alone. Uncle is dead." DeGolyer sat down without saying a word. He sat in silence, and then he asked: "When did he die?"
A boy shouted in the hall, a dog barked, and a cat sprang up from a doze under a table, looked toward the door, gave himself a humping stretch, and then lay down again. Whenever DeGolyer looked at the girl, a new expression, the rosy tinge of a strange confusion, flew to her countenance. His talk evoked a self-possessed reply, but over his silence an embarrassment was brooding.
"You shan't go, Hank," young Witherspoon cried. "Henry," said DeGolyer, "I did as you requested. Now it is your time to obey. Keep quiet!" He stood erect; he had the bearing of a master. He turned to Witherspoon. "Here is a check for the amount of money you advanced me, with interest added." Witherspoon stepped back. "I refuse to take it," he said. "But you shall take it.
"I'd began to think that you'd forgotten to come," said Miss Drury, as DeGolyer entered the room. She was sitting at her desk, and hits of torn paper were scattered about her. "I'm sorry that I kept you waiting so long," he replied. He did not sit down, but stood near her. "Oh, it hasn't been so very long," she rejoined. "Why, how you have changed since yesterday," she added, looking at him.
Some natures are like a piece of fly-paper a sorrow alights and sticks there. But that isn't my nature. It doesn't take much to make me contented." The weather remained pleasant, and the travelers were within a day's ride of Dura, when Witherspoon complained one morning of feeling ill, and by noon be could scarcely sit in his saddle. "Let us stop somewhere," DeGolyer urged.
They returned to the veranda. "Won't you sit down?" the old woman asked. "No, I've but a few moments to stay. By the way, some time ago I met a man who said that he had lived here when a child. I was trying to think of his name. Oh, it was a man named Henry DeGolyer, I believe. Do you remember him?" "Yes, but it was a long time ago.
His voice had suddenly changed, and the old woman looked sharply at him. "Yes, several times. She was a tall, frail, black-eyed creature, and she might have done well if she hadn't ever met John DeGolyer. But won't you sit down?" "No, thank you, I'm going now. You are the matron, I presume." "Yes, sir have been now for I hardly know how long."
Just then the proprietor came in. "What's the trouble?" he asked. "Why, mister, don't pay any attention to that poor fellow. There's no harm in him." "No one knows that better than I," DeGolyer answered. "How long has he been here where did he come from?" "He came off a ship. The cap'n said that he couldn't use him and asked me to take him. Been here about five months, I think.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking