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Updated: May 2, 2025
Crewe would get married a wife could take so many burdens off his shoulders. You don't know Mr. Crewe very well, do you?" "Callate to so so," said Mr. Braden. Mrs. Pomfret was at sea again. "I mean, do you see him often?" "Seen him once," said Mr. Braden. "G-guess that's enough." "You're a shrewd judge of human nature, Mr.
Crewe would get married a wife could take so many burdens off his shoulders. You don't know Mr. Crewe very well, do you?" "Callate to so so," said Mr. Braden. Mrs. Pomfret was at sea again. "I mean, do you see him often?" "Seen him once," said Mr. Braden. "G-guess that's enough." "You're a shrewd judge of human nature, Mr.
I'll come to it in time g-guess it won't run away." Cynthia stared at him, perhaps with a new interest at this plodding determination. She was not quite sure that she ought to stand talking to him a third time in these woods, especially if the subject of conversation were not, as Coniston thought, the salvation of his soul. But she stayed.
"Y-yes, it d-does," admitted Oh-Pshaw, her teeth suddenly beginning to chatter, and she realized that she was sitting out too long in her wet bathing suit. "I g-guess I'll g-go up and get dressed," she finished, between the shivers that shook her like a reed. The Lone Wolf came up to her and taking her own sweater off wrapped it around her and hustled her off toward her tent.
Their wrists were tightly strapped behind them with their own belts. "Oh ... thank goodness!" Sandy gasped. Tom gave the girls a reassuring grin. "Are you two all right?" "I g-guess so." Phyl gave a nervous smile. Now that the tables were turned, it was the thugs' turn to "march." The boys herded them warily back down the hillside toward the road, where Bud had parked his red convertible.
This was audacity and yet she liked it. "I am very fond of Moses," she said quickly. "You always was charitable, Cynthy," said he. "Haven't I been charitable to you?" she retorted. "G-guess it has be'n charity," said Jethro. He looked down at her solemnly, thoughtfully, no trace of anger in his face, turned, and without another word strode off in the direction of Coniston Flat.
A certain kind of an eye is an incomparable weapon, and armed men have been cowed by those who possess it, though otherwise defenceless. Jethro Bass had that kind of an eye. "G-guess you wouldn't understand if I was to tell you," he said. Mr. Worthington walked to the window again, perhaps to compose himself, and then came back again.
Pulling a great cowhide wallet from his pocket, still holding the locket in his hand, to the amazement of the clerk he counted out twenty dollars and laid them down. "G-guess I'll take that one, g-guess I'll take that one," he said. Then he looked at Mr. Wetherell for the first time. "Hold!" cried the clerk, more alarmed than he cared to show, "that's not the price.
"G-guess I've told you all he said," answered Jethro; "'twahn't a great deal." The senator held out his hand. "Bass," he said, laughing, "I believe you came pretty near meeting your match. But if Grant's the hardest man in the Union to get anything out of, I've a notion who's the second." And with this parting shot the senator took his departure, chuckling to himself as he went.
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