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Updated: May 19, 2025
The firm of Grubb & Smallways, formerly Grubb, had indeed been singularly unlucky in the last year or so.
She went to the Council to keep me company, mostly, but the very first evening I could see that William Burkhardt, of Bald Eagle No. 62, was struck with her; she lights up splendidly, Mrs. Grubb does.
The guide lay down with his blanket half folded over him without a single worry on his mind, knowing that his charges could not get far away without a pulling on the lines that would awaken him. But when the pulling on the lines did come, Janus Grubb was not prepared for it, and the camp of the Meadow-Brook Girls was thrown into wild excitement by what followed.
For the first rule in the art of repairing, as it was known to the firm of Grubb and Smallways, was to get your hands and face thoroughly and conclusively blackened. Also he took off his jacket and waistcoat and put his cap carefully to the back of his head in order to facilitate scratching.
"What do you think, Mr. Grubb?" "I reckon we're beaten." "Yes. We haven't found a clue of any consequence. Perhaps we have imagined too much, but I do not think so." "Give me a torch; it's my turn now. Let's see what Crazy Jane can find," said Jane McCarthy. "My grandfather was the champion shamrock hunter of the Emerald Isle, and my Dad says I'm a pocket edition of my grandfather.
Mrs. Grubb was not so easily classified as these 'brothers' imagined, however, and fortunately for them she had no leanings towards any man's fireside. Mr. Grubb had died in the endeavour to understand her, and it is doubtful whether, had he been offered a second life and another opportunity, he would have thought the end justified the means.
It would seem that she must have inherited a certain number of 'views, because no human being could have amassed, in a quarter of a century, as many as she held at the age of twenty-five. She had then stood up with Mr. Charles Grubb, before a large assembly, in the presence of which they promised to assume and continue the relation of husband and wife so long as it was mutually agreeable.
"You can't get a living by keeping hens," said Bert. "You'd keep the hen and have it spatch-cocked," said Grubb. "The motor chaps would pay for it." When they really came to take the place they remembered this conversation. Hens, however, were out of the question; there was no place for a run unless they had it in the shop. It would have been obviously out of place there.
Grubb was a timid, conventional soul, who would have given all the testimony of all the witnesses of his wedding ceremony for the mere presence of a single parson; but he imagined himself in love with Cora Wilkins, and she could neither be wooed nor won by any of the beaten paths that led to other women.
There will be plenty of traces of their journey, for once seen they are never forgotten. Nobody but a hero would think of kidnapping them, and nobody but an idiot would expect a ransom for them! 'I hope you didn't upbraid Mrs. Grubb, said Mary, divining from Rhoda's clouded brow that her interview had not been a pleasant one.
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