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Updated: June 22, 2025
"That does not follow, sir," he articulated with some difficulty. "Mr. Leavenworth might " but suddenly stopped, as if too much distressed to proceed. "Go on, Mr. Harwell, let us hear what you have to say." "There is nothing," he returned faintly, as if battling with some strong emotion.
Harwell, two persons whom I had no reason to suspect, but who were the only persons beside herself who could have committed this crime, being the only persons of intellect who were in the house or believed to be, at the time of the murder, I notified them separately that the assassin of Mr.
At her forty-yard line Harwell stayed again for a while the onslaught of the enemy, and tried thrice to make ground through the Yates line. Then back to the hands of Wilkes went the oval and again the heart-breaking rout began. Harwell made her last desperate rally on her twenty-five yards.
Despite Joel's dark forebodings, he was at last released from tackling practice. And with that moment he began to take hope for better things. Under the charge of Kent, one of the coaches and an old Harwell half, Joel was instructed in catching punts till his arms ached and his eyes watered, and in kicking until he seemed to be one-sided.
Harwell, whatever other titles they might have had, held solely under the act of Parliament nominating them to that authority; but in all other respects, except where the act and other subsequent acts have not broken in upon it, the whole course of the service remains upon the ancient footing, that is, the commercial footing, as to the gradation and order of service.
Give a boy the name of being a hero and it will stick. Joel was still pointed out by admiring Hillton graduates to their friends at Harwell as "March, the fellow who kicked the winning goal-from-field in the St. Eustace game two years ago."
Instantly the manuscript and all connected with it vanished from my thoughts; and Eleanore, her situation, and the mystery surrounding this family, returned upon me with renewed force. Looking the secretary steadily in the face, I remarked: "I am very glad of this opportunity of seeing you a moment alone, Mr. Harwell, if only for the purpose of saying " "Anything in regard to the murder?"
Harwell, and explain yourself. If you are the murderer of Mr. Leavenworth, how comes it that things look so black against everybody but yourself?" But in the hot, feverish eyes which sought him from the writhing form at his feet, there was mad anxiety and pain, but little explanation. Seeing him making unavailing efforts to speak, I drew near. "Lean on me," said I, lifting him to his feet.
Whether it was the tone of his voice, the clutch of his hand on his sleeve and the hand will often reveal more than the countenance I felt that this man was not to be relied upon in making this assertion. "I should like to ask Mr. Harwell a question," said a juryman who had not yet spoken. "We have had a detailed account of what looks like the discovery of a murdered man.
"Glory, glory for the Crimson, Glory, glory for the Crimson, Glory, glory for the Crimson, For this is Harwell's day," sang the throng. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" thundered the big drum. "Tootle-toot!" shrilled the fife. "Now, fellows, three times three, three long Harwells, and three times three!" shouted the master of ceremonies hoarsely. "Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Rah-rah-rah, Harwell! Harwell!
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