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Updated: May 17, 2025
"H-m, h-m," said David with a nod; "diff'rence 'tween joggin' along on the road an' drivin' a fust heat on the track; in one case the' ain't nothin' up, an' ye don't care whether you git there a little more previously or a little less; an' in the other the's the crowd, an' the judges, an' the stake, an' your record, an' mebbe the pool box into the barg'in, that's all got to be considered.
Fix it up any way you like, and we'll make the play and win." "Who's to do the 'skillful throwing' of the ladder?" "A friend of mine who used to be a fireman." "Do you think you can get him?" "I've engaged him already." "H-m." Mark stared at the detective, then burst forth with, "What time did you get up?" "I didn't have to get up. I haven't gone to bed yet." Mark sat down in his chair to think.
"What do you think of that?" cried Stern exultantly. "Talk about your miracles! A thousand years and " Beatrice grasped him by the arm and pointed downward. Astonished, he stared. The rest of the skeleton had vanished. In its place now only a few handfuls of dust lay on the floor. "Well, I'll be " the man exclaimed. "Even that does the trick, eh? H-m!
No matter how many come, if you hit one they all run." "H-m," murmured Uncle John, "I'm not so sure of that, Wampus. There seems to be a good many of those insolent rascals, and I hope we shall not meet them again. They may give us trouble yet." "Never be afraid," advised the chauffeur. "I am Wampus, an' I am here!" Admitting that evident truth, our tourists were not greatly reassured.
"The men are," said Gazebee, very comfortably. "H-m," said Crosbie. It was manifest to Gazebee that his friend was expressing a feeling that the women, also, were not all that they should be, but he took no offence, though some portion of the censure might thereby be supposed to attach to his own wife. "The countess means well," said Gazebee. "But she's had a hard life of it, a very hard life.
Caleb came around that afternoon or they would have gone after him. He heard Yan's story in silence, then, "Have ye sunned your blankets sense ye came?" "No." Caleb went into the teepee, felt the blankets, then grunted: "H-m! Jest so. They're nigh soppin'. You turn in night after night an' sweat an' sweat in them blankets an' wonder why they're damp.
Your father'll be proud of you." Woodbury looked at him sharply. "How do you know that?" "Any man would be." "But the notoriety, man! It would kill me with a lot of people as thoroughly as if I'd put the muzzle of a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger." "H-m!" muttered the reporter, "sort of social suicide, all right. But it's news, Mr. Woodbury, and the editor "
"Whatcha mean, what do I think about it?" "The woman in the taxicab do you think she killed him?" Barker drew a deep breath. One might have fancied that it was a sigh of relief. "Oh, her? Sure! She's the person that killed him!" "He knew a good many women?" suggested Carroll interrogatively. "He got along pretty well with them?" "H-m!" William Barker nodded. "You said it then, Mr. Carroll. Mr.
Merrick, while the Major nodded a greeting. The man half arose, moving stiffly. "Pardon me, sirs," he said, rather startled at the interruption; "I regret that I am physically unable to receive you with more courtesy." The Major gazed into the partially bandaged face with a glimmer of awakening recognition. "H-m! Ha! If I'm not mistaken," said he, "it's Joseph Wegg."
"All I can tell you, Mrs. Abbott, is that if Jimmie does come to-night, I've got to pay him a thousand bones dollars, I mean. It was a sort of a wager, and that must be what he wants to tell you about." It was an exceedingly stout young man with a round, cherubic countenance standing by the mantel who replied to her, and the old lady glanced at him sharply. "A wager? H-m! Possibly."
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