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Updated: May 22, 2025
Keen; and after a few moments the Tracer of Lost Persons' agreeable voice sounded in the receiver. "It's about Mr. Kerns," began Gatewood; "I want to see him happy, and the idiot won't be. Now, Mr. Keen, you know what happiness you and he brought to me! You know what sort of an idle, selfish, aimless, meaningless life you saved me from? I want you to do the same for Mr. Kerns.
His gory head was presented to Captain Piers, who hastened with it to Dublin, where he received a reward of a thousand marks for his success. High spiked upon the towers of the Castle, that proud head remained and rotted; the body, wrapped in a Kerns saffron shirt, was interred where he fell, a spot familiar to all the inhabitants of the Antrim glens as "the grave of Shane O'Neil."
May I speak frankly?" "Well, when I come back from Boston " "Because I know a girl," interrupted Gatewood "wait a moment, Tommy!" as Kerns rose and sauntered toward the door "you've plenty of time to catch your train and be civil, too! I mean to tell you about that girl, if you'll listen." Kerns halted and turned upon his friend a pair of eyes, unwinking in their placid intelligence.
Among those who worked in the first decade of this century were: Helen L. Grenfell, Mary C. C. Bradford, Ellis Meredith, Hattie E. Westover, Mrs. John F. Shafroth, Minnie J. Reynolds, Gail Laughlin, Drs. Elizabeth Cassady, Jean Gale, Mary Long, Mary E. Bates, Rose Kidd Beere and Sarah Townsend; Lillian C. Kerns, Martha A. Pease, Alice Polk Hill, Mrs. A. C. Sisk, Mrs.
All the policeman heard as they passed him was; "I'm going to give you this horse, and Kerns is to give us our silver; and what do you think, my darling?" "W-what?"
"Splash!" said Kerns, rising. "I've a good mind," said Gatewood indignantly, "to put the Tracer of Lost Persons on your trail. He'd rope you and tie you in record time!" Kerns's smile was a provocation. "I'll do it, too!" added Gatewood, losing his temper, "if you dare give me the chance." "Seriously," inquired Kerns, delighted, "do you think your friend, Mr.
"A nice sentiment!" said Gatewood hotly. "Can't help it; you see I'm forbidden to monkey with the eternal looms or weave the forbidden into the pattern of my life." Gatewood sat silent for a moment, then looked up at Kerns with something so closely akin to a grin that his friend became interested in its scarcely veiled significance, and grinned in reply.
What mental, what spiritual stimulus can a man expect to find in a club? Why, Kerns, when I look back a year and think what I was, and when I look at you and think what you still are " "John," said Mrs. Gatewood softly. "Oh, he knows it!" insisted her husband, "don't you, Tommy? You know the sort of life you're leading, don't you?
"But if you've never had it, and therefore don't miss it, it's time somebody found some real happiness for you. Kerns, I simply can't bear to see you missing so much happiness " "Why grieve?" "Yes, I will! I do grieve in spite of your grinning skepticism and your bantering attitude. See here, Tom; I've started about a thousand times to say that I knew a girl "
Gatewood put on his coat, took hat and gloves from the unabashed valet, and sauntered down to the sunny breakfast room, where he found Kerns inspecting a morning paper and leisurely consuming grapefruit with a cocktail on the side. "Hullo," observed Kerns briefly. "I'm not on the telephone," snapped Gatewood. "I beg your pardon; how are you, dear friend?"
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