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Updated: June 8, 2025
The way he photographed it, against a background which had nothing by which its size could be estimated, the little white stone looked like a Kohinoor. It was two transparent pyramids set base to base, and he even got color-flashes from it. And Jamison, forewarned, took pictures from the air of the blue-sand areas. They showed the tint the one tiny diamond explained.
I shall be there in two minutes." She kept her word. With that light in her eyes, that pale composure on her face, she swept into the dining-room, and took her place at the glittering table. Jamison waited upon her watching her, of course, as a cat a mouse.
We'll accept it for twenty-five cents on the dollar," returned Tom gaily. "What is it, Dick?" asked Songbird. "Do you remember the haunted house at Rushville, the place Mr. Sanderson called the Jamison home?" asked Dick of his brothers. "Sure!" returned Sam and Tom promptly. "Well, I propose we visit that house to-morrow and investigate the ghosts if there are any." "Just the thing!" cried Sam.
You will exercise every possible precaution. Your specific purpose is simply this: to determine, if possible, the fate of the other two ships, and report your findings at once. The Chiefs of the Service will then consider the matter, and take whatever action may seem advisable to them." Jamison rose to his feet and thrust out his hand in Earth's fine old salute of farewell.
In Sir Victor's hand, and addressed to herself! What did this mean? She stood looking at it a moment then she turned to Jamison. "That will do," she said briefly; "if I want you I will ring." The man bowed and left the room. She stood still, holding the unopened note, strangely reluctant to break the seal. What did Sir Victor mean by absenting himself and writing her a note?
Alice G. Blayne may be perfectly honest in her contention." "But in that case won't Mr. Strout or Mr. Jamison give me my money back?" asked Mrs. Carringford. "If there was much chance of that, do you think Strout would have stirred up any such suit as this?" asked Mr. Day quietly. "No. Strout at least thinks he sees his way to making you lose the house.
There's twenty acres of plowable land and orchard, and a five-acre wood-lot, as I told you. The best part of the property is this. Mr. Jamison was a natural fruit-grower. He had a heap of good fruit here and wouldn't grow nothin' but the best. He was always a-speerin' round, and when he come across something extra he'd get a graft, or a root or two.
William Holden looking greenish and ill and trying sickishly to answer questions from West and Jamison and Bell, who had been plucked from their private lives just as Cochrane had and were now clamorously demanding of Bill Holden that he explain what had happened to them. Cochrane snapped angrily: "Leave the man alone! He's space-sick! If you get him too much upset this place will be a mess!"
Perhaps I can pick 'em out for you, too, at the vandoo. You can go along, and if anything strikes your fancy I'll bid on it." "O papa," cried the children, in chorus, "can we go with you to the vandoo?" "Yes, I think so. When does the sale take place?" "Next Tuesday. That's a good breed of potatoes. Jamison allus had the best of everything.
Cochrane wore headphones carrying what the communicator carried, as this broadcast went through an angled Dabney field relay system back to Lunar City and then to Earth. He spoke close to Jamison's ear. "Go ahead! If your voice fades, it will be the best possible sign-off. Suspense. Good television!" Jamison let the throat-mike back against his skin.
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