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Updated: May 4, 2025
Deliveries of stores were made several times during the day, but there was an entire lack of snap and the Indians took their time in stowing things away. Colonel Howell was absent most of the day and in the middle of the afternoon the two boys took their first opportunity to look over the town.
Well, in spite of all that, there seemed no doubt that Jennie Brice had been living three days after her disappearance, and that would clear Mr. Ladley. But what had Mr. Howell to do with it all? Why had he not told the police of the letter from Horner? Or about the woman on the bridge? Why had Mr.
And among them Tom recalled a certain sprightly tenderfoot, Theodore Howell by name, who had been at camp early that same season. Doubtless this artistic triumph on the bulging back of Llewellyn was the handiwork of that same tenderfoot. And likely enough, too, those letters up in the woods were the initials of Harry Thorne, still at camp. Tom would ask Harry about that.
The two men stood discussing the young French girl, Lisette, whom Hugh had met when in hiding in the Via della Maddalena in Genoa. "I only hope; that she has not told young Henfrey anything," Howell said, with distinct apprehension. "No," laughed The Sparrow. "She came to me and told me how she had met him in Genoa and discovered to her amazement that he was old Henfrey's son."
Croix, by Thomas Barclay, David Howell, and Egbert Benson, commissioners appointed in pursuance of the fifth article of the treaty of amity, commerce, and navigation between His Britannic Majesty and the United States of America finally to decide the question "What river was truly intended under the name of the river St.
Just now, I have other plans for you. We'll talk these over later." Then, as if dismissing the entire matter, Mr. Zept began to point out to Colonel Howell the improvements of the city while the big machine sped toward the hotel. Paul, with a sullen look on his face, settled back among the cushions, and Norman and Roy, awed by the decisive tones of the rich man, made no attempt at conversation.
Howell listened, smiling to himself, but at the mention of the onyx clock he got up and went to the mantel. "By Jove!" he said, and stood looking at the mark in the dust. "Are you sure the clock was here yesterday?" "I wound it night before last, and put the key underneath. Yesterday, before they moved up, I wound it again." "The key is gone also. Well, what of it, Holcombe?
But, alas, Constable John Dey had recognized Howell and Clark, even amid their disguises. He had dealt with them too often before. The next tableau showed them, with their tall hats crushed over their heads, belaboring John Dey and his myrmidons, and presently, with half a dozen other ingenuous youth, they were haled to the office of justice.
Howell carried conviction in every word he said; he looked the district attorney in the eye, and once when our glances crossed he even smiled at me faintly. But I saw why he had tried to find Jennie Brice, and had dreaded testifying.
"But perhaps the Missourians will not sell you anything when they know that you are free-State men," suggested Mrs. Bryant, timidly, for this was a family council. "Oh, well," answered Mr. Howell, sturdily, "I'll risk that. I never saw a man yet with anything to sell who wouldn't sell it when the money was shaken in his face.
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