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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Shot in the thigh; think the bone's broke. You haven't got a drop of water, have you?" "No, Bobby; wish I had. Have anymore of our boys been hurt that you know of?" "Switzer is dead; Bill Cringle and Jonesy are prisoners; 'Pud' White is in the ambulance ahead; 'Fol' Thompson's lost an arm; that's all I know."
"'Jonesy will be powerful glad to see you, says I. "'Jonesy! says she, surprised. 'Jonesy! Oh, is that what you call Uncle Albert? "'Well, it does sometimes happen that way," says I. And then my anti-George Washington blood rose again. 'You see, he was kind of lonesome out there at first, and we took to calling him Jonesy to cheer him up and make him feel at home, I says. "'Oh! says she.
In the twisted squint of his small clay face one reads slight regard for mere systems and codes." He paused so long that she prompted him in a voice that threatened to become unsteady. "Tell me more about him. What is his godship's name?" "He looked so protestingly wise," Benton went on, "that I named him Jonesy. I liked that name because it fitted him so badly.
If Unc' Henry had gone quarter of a mile farther up the track, he would have found those same sliding imprints on every other crosstie, as if the man had taken long running leaps in his haste to get away. Jonesy stoutly denied that the man had set fire to the cabin.
"It's better than I ever dreamed," she said to the amiable Griffin as she was showing her how to put the wet cloths about her work. "It's not half so hard as I thought it would be, either." "Wait till Saturday, when old Jonesy lights on you," warned her new friend. "You won't find life so lightsome when his eagle eye discovers you."
It was all Greek to Jonesy. The terms puzzled him, but he enjoyed Keith's description of the tournaments. Several evenings after that, Keith went down to the cottage dressed in the beautiful velvet costume of white and blue, ablaze with rhinestones and glittering jewels. He had been wrapped in his Aunt Allison's golf cape, and, as he threw it off, Jonesy's eyes opened wider and wider with wonder.
Jonesy was waiting at the section-house, and waved his cap as they passed. "We're going on, around the next bend," shouted Keith, as they passed him. "Whoop-la! this is fine, and not a bit hard to work!" "What will the wicked queen think when she can't find us?" asked Lloyd, laughing happily, as they sped on down the track.
Sanders, the group's chief petty officer, replied, "I think we're going to need a sand hose, Sir. Most of the wreck is buried." Jonesy, a short, husky frogman with a bright-red crew cut, added, "Sir, I think the cannon and stuff would be on the deck ahead of the cabin we opened up, but the deck is under the sand. Could we rig a hose, Sir?" "Good idea. Put a detail to work, Chief."
She told me in private that it was wonderful how the air out here agreed with her, and I said it was considered mighty bracing, and never let on that they proclaimed their state of mind every time they looked at each other. I reckon old smart-Aleck Jonesy was the only party in the township who didn't understand.
"'No, they ain't; they've caught me at home as usual, says I. 'Well, I'll give that Eastern blossom an idea of the quality of this country anyhow. So I togs myself up in the awfullest rig I could find; strapped two ca'tridge belts to me, every hole filled, and a gun in every holster; put candle-grease on my mustache and twisted the ends up to my eye-winkers; stuck a knife in my hatband and another in my boot; threw a shotgun and a rifle in the buckboard, and pulled out quick through the colt-pens before Jonesy could get his peeps onto me.
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