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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Come in, Gus, my dear boy," he chirped, "and rest your face and hands." He turned to the stenographer. "That will be all, my dear, for the present. I can't dictate business secrets in the presence of this ahem harumph-h-h! er " His desk telephone rang. Cappy took down the receiver and grunted. "J. O. Heyfuss & Co. are calling you, Mr. Ricks," his private exchange operator announced.
At last, after the application of restoratives, Edith so far recovered herself as to say brokenly: "We've been betrayed they're villains. They never meant marriage at all." "That's false!" screamed Zell. "I won't believe it of my lover, whatever may have been true of your mean little Gus Elliot. He promised to marry me, and you have spoiled everything by your mad folly. I'll never forgive you."
In his abstraction he had walked into the Holland House, and he suddenly became conscious that he was confronting a familiarly respectful bartender. "Oh, hell," he said, greatly disconcerted, "I want some French vichy, Gus!" He made a wry face, and added: "Put a dash of tabasco in it, and salt it."
"He is going to take a trip on one of his ships to Nova Scotia and he wants to know if I wish to go along." "One of these letters is from Gus Plum," said Dave. "He is going to Europe with his folks. The other letter is from er from Crumville." "I'll wager it is from Jessie Wadsworth," remarked Phil, slyly. "Come, Dave, what does the lady fair say?"
"Carryin' a good deal of hardware, ain't they, Gus?" Ferril smiled. "Most of the boys are quittin' that foolishness, but some of 'em can't get it out of their heads that they look big when they're gun-toters. Kind of a kid business, looks to me." The eyes of the cattleman rested on Houck. "I wouldn't call that big black fellow a kid. Who is he?" "Don't know. Reckon we're due to find out.
Tessie Carey, of Minooka, sustained a black eye and lacerations of the left side of the face by falling bricks. Gus Minnick, a repairer, working in the engine room, had just set his dinner pail where one of the stacks fell. There were altogether one hundred and fifty girls at work, but outside of bruises and scratches they were uninjured. The property damage was about $20,000.
"But don't you get some amusement in the evening?" marveled Gus. "What was the matter with you and the other girls in the store? Can't you hit it off?" "Me? No. I guess I was too woodsy for them. I went out with them a couple of times. I guess they're nice girls all right; but they've got what you call a broader way of looking at things than I have.
"Gentlemen, the business of the club will be attended to, and then we will discuss the question, 'Shall girls go to our colleges? The Secretary will now read the report of the last meeting." Clearing his throat, Gus read the following brief and elegant report: "Club met, December 18th, at the house of G. Burton, Esq. Subject: 'Is summer or winter best fun? A lively pow-wow. About evenly divided.
"I was thinking we might spoil their fun." "And get caught, as we did with the tar-barrels," grumbled Gus Coulter. "We'll take good care that nobody sees us this time." "What are you thinking of doing?" asked Coulter, curiously. "Come with me and I'll tell you," answered Reff Ritter, and took his crony by the arm.
But the fellows will gasp when I step into the arena." "Thank you, Todd. Why will they gasp?" "Footer isn't my line, sir." "Hasn't been, Todd. Anyhow, they'll be delighted when you whistle them up." "I hope they'll be delighted when I've finished, sir," said Gus, doubtfully. "One side won't, of course," said Taylor, cheerfully. "That is natural, and the usual thing.
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