United States or Trinidad and Tobago ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He no longer doubted that Marette Radisson was of the far Northland. His faith in that was absolute. If there had been a last question in his mind, it was wiped away because she called him Jeems. Yet this room seemed to give the lie to his faith. Fascinated by his discovery of things, he drew away from the door and stood over the dressing-table in front of the mirror.
"I thought it might be that for a moment a mowing machine, I mean. No, we just met a couple of gentlemen enterprising fellows who wanted to see more of this commodious mansion of ours " Val's words faded into a sharp hiss as Rupert applied iodine with a liberal hand. "They seemed to think that Jeems knew a lot about Pirate's Haven and they were going to persuade him to tell all.
But I can't now. It won't be long. When you tell me we are safe, I shall believe you. And then " She withdrew her hands from his and dropped back on her pillow. "And then what?" he asked, leaning far over. "You may not like me, Jeems." "I love you," he whispered. "Nothing in the world can stop my loving you." "Even if I tell you soon that I killed Barkley?" "No. You would be lying."
But he won't come back while Creighton's here. I could wring that man's neck!" "But Creighton left for Milneburg this morning," Val reminded her. "Rupert told him about the old voodoo rites which used to be celebrated there on June 24th, St. John's Eve, and he wanted to see if there were any records " "Yes. But Jeems doesn't know he's gone. If we could only get in touch with him Jeems, I mean."
"Co'se," said Uncle Remus, addressing himself to Miss Theodosia, "you ain't bin to Putmon, en you dunner whar de Brad Slaughter place en Harmony Grove is, but Mars John en Miss Sally, dey bin dar a time er two, en dey knows how de lan' lays. Well, den, it 'uz right long in dere whar Mars Jeems lived, en whar he live now. When de war come long he wuz livin' dere longer Ole Miss en Miss Sally.
Jeems isn't dishonest, and neither are a great many of the muskrat hunters. In the early days all kinds of outlaws and wanted men fled into the swamps and lived there with the hunters. One or two desperate men gave the whole of the swamp people a bad name and it has stuck. They are a strange folk back there in the fur country.
So somehow Val was not surprised, when he came out upon the edge of the bayou levee, to see Jeems sitting there. "Hello!" The swamper looked up at Val's hail but this time he did not leave. "Hullo," he answered sullenly. Val stood there, ill at ease, while the swamper eyed him composedly. What could he say now?
He put out his arm and drew her to him, so that for a moment his face pressed against the top of her wet little turban. And then he heard her say: "There is a scow at the bayou, Jeems. It is close to the end of the path. M'sieu Fingers has kept it there, waiting, ready." He had been thinking of Crossen's place and an open boat.
Creighton made several attempts to get in touch with Jeems, whom he seemed to suspect of concealing vast literary treasures. And he spent one hot morning going through the trunk of papers which the Ralestones had found in the storage-room. Ricky commented upon the fact that being a publisher's scout was almost like being an antique buyer. Holmes was a perfect foil for his laboring friend.
"Levin, I kin show you how to plough: I can't do it, but you're the man." "Cyrus, Huldy don't hate you. She says you're the nighest to a friend she's got." "Oh, I love her like sugar-cane," the lean, cymlin-headed servant said. "Tell her I'm goin' to be a great man. I'm goin' to spile the game. They lick me, but Cy Jeems has courage, Levin." "Cyrus, tell Huldy all that's goin' on agin her.
Word Of The Day