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Updated: June 4, 2025
Hattie, the hitherto shining light, was detailed to secure subscribers; was this all that honours in Algebra, Latin, and Chemistry could do for one? Miss MacLauren found herself on a committee for advertisements. By means of advertisements, Miss Kilrain proposed to make the paper pay for itself.
In the left-hand corner crouched Slogger Atkins, the English lightweight, while opposite to him in the right-hand corner stood Young Kilrain, poised in an attitude of defense. Underneath was the legend, "The Contestants in Tomorrow Night's Battle."
Miss MacLauren did not express herself, but when it came to the vote, Miss MacLauren said "Aye." The "Ayes" had it. Then, all at once, the Platonians became aware of Miss Kilrain, whom they had momentarily forgotten. Miss Kilrain was sitting in deprecating silence, and the Platonians had a sudden consciousness that it was the silence of disapproval.
"Sit on the fence and roll a cigarette like a blasted gentleman and damn the eyes of the feller that's catchin' my hoss." "And me," said Calamity Ben, "what do I get?" "You get orders," answered Kilrain, "from me." Calamity regarded him, uncertain whether or not to fight out the point, but apparently decided that the effort was not worth while.
The tone of Kilrain raised and grew ugly. "Are you tryin' to cover the tenderfoot, Drew?" The big man made a fierce gesture. "Why should I cover him?" "Because you been actin' damned queer," answered Nash. "Ah, you're here again, Nash? I know you hate Bard because he was too much for you." "He got the start of me, but I'll do a lot of finishing."
The ex-sailor shifted his quid so that it stuck far out in the opposite cheek with such violence of pressure that a little spot of white appeared through the tan of the skin. He regarded Lawlor for a silent moment with bodeful eyes. "What the hell are you lookin' at?" roared the other. "On your way!" The features of Kilrain twitched spasmodically. "Righto, sir."
And to Kilrain, who was leaving the room: "Come back here." "Well?" snarled the sailor, half turning at the door. "While I'm runnin' this here ranch you're goin' to have manners, see?" "If manners was like your whiskers," said the unabashed Shorty, "it'd take me nigh onto thirty years to get 'em." And he winked at Bard for sympathy. Lawlor smashed his fist on the table.
A few steps farther on, they met Miss Kilrain, the new teacher at the High School. It was just as Miss MacLauren was laughing an embarrassed laugh to hide the blush. Miss Kilrain looked at them coldly, one was conscious of her disapproval. Miss Kilrain's name had been up that very afternoon in the Society for honorary membership. All teachers were made honorary members.
"Kilrain," called Drew, "you're Calamity's best friend. Ride for Eldara and bring back Dr. Young. Quick! We're going to pull Ben through." "Jest a waste of time," said Nash coolly. "He's got one foot in hell already." "You've said too much, Nash. Kilrain, are you going?" "I'll stop for the doctor at Eldara, but then I'll keep on riding." "What do you mean?" "Nothin'."
Miss Kilrain, always gave the details of her private happenings to her listeners. "Just mention my name in writing, and say I told you to ask for an advertisement." The Chairman gave the slip to Miss MacLauren to attend to. Miss MacLauren had seen the name before on all the new text-books this year introduced into the High School. "How will I write this?"
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