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Updated: May 25, 2025
Does it meet with your approval?" "There's plenty of it anyhow," laughed Jimsy, "and really it's very much like what I expected it would be." "I feel like a regular cowgirl or a er well, what the newspapers call a typical Westerner already," said Jess Bancroft, Jimsy's sister.
The next train after Honor's had been held up just beyond Córdoba by a band of brigands, supposed to be a section of Villistas, the passengers robbed and mistreated and three of the train men killed. "Not a step without an escort," said Jimsy's uncle. Then Jimsy's new friend came to the rescue.
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!" "A church bell," cried Jess, "we must be over land, Peggy!" The other shook her head. "That's a bell buoy, I guess," she said. "I wish he'd tell us how to get out of here," joked Jimsy, rather wearily. "Who?" asked Jess. "That bell boy." Never had one of Jimsy's jokes fallen so flat. He mentally resolved not to attempt another one. Presently he looked at his watch.
Doing something " Carter came into the sala. He was terrifyingly white but with an admirable composure. "Steady, old boy," he said, putting his frail hand on Jimsy's shoulder. "Sit tight! We depend on you. And you're doing" he looked at the decanter, as if measuring its contents with his eye "gloriously, splendidly, old son! I know the strain you're under.
Richard King was older than Jimsy's father but he had the same look of race and pride, and his wife was a plain, rather tired-looking Englishwoman with very white teeth and broodingly tender blue eyes which belied the briskness of her manner. "I am Honor Carmody." "You are " Mrs. King came forward, frowning a little. "I I am engaged to your nephew to Jimsy King. I think you must have heard of me."
Honor's stepfather had taken great care to have the real facts in Jimsy's case printed he sent the clipping from the Los Angeles paper and he had spent an evening with James King, setting forth the truth of the case.
"When we get home," she said, "I'll explain to you exactly what a 'down' is!" They waited to see the joyous serpentine, to watch Jimsy's struggles to get down from the shoulders of his adorers who bore him the length of the field and back, and then Carter drove them home and went back for the Captain, who would be showered and dressed by that time.
Los Angeles High School, champion of Southern California, was to meet Greenmount, the northern champion, and nothing else in the world mattered very much to her and to Jimsy. "It's so perfect, Carter, to have it come in Jimsy's last year, to win the State Championship for L. A. just before he leaves." "Sure of winning?" "It will be pretty stiff going. They're awfully good, Greenmount.
When she pulled out the bit of closely folded paper with a sharp sound of triumph there came with it a thick letter which dropped on the red tiles. He snatched at it but Honor's downward swoop was swifter. She stood staring at it, her eyes opening wider and wider, turning the plump letter in her hands. "Jimsy's letter to me," she said at last in a flat, curious tone. "The one he gave you to mail."
Jimsy King was on his feet, shaken out of the serene insolence of his young stoicism, his hands opening and shutting, swallowing hard, and Honor, the boy-girl, Jimsy's sturdy Skipper, was crying, frankly, unashamed, unaware, the tears welling up out of her wide eyes, rolling down her bright cheeks. Only Carter Van Meter sat as before, a little withdrawn, a little aloof, in the shadow.
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