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"Hey, didn't I suggest cocaine injections last time I saw you?" "So you did," Fay agreed flatly. "Oh by the way, Gussy, here's that check for a yard I promised you. Micro doesn't muzzle the ox." "Hooray!" Daisy cheered faintly. "I thought you said it was going to be for two." Gusterson complained. "Budgeting always forces a last-minute compromise," Fay shrugged.
The minutes were long where Chet waited in the pilot's cabin. Each sound might mean a last-minute search of departing ships, but he tried to tell himself that the attention of the officers would be centered upon the passenger liners. Beyond, where he could see out into the control room, a white light flashed. He heard the bellowing orders of the Irishman at the controls.
Under the huge dome that enclosed the main part of the city, the heavier air pressure permitted normal travel of sound; and he'd become sensitive to the voice of the city after the relative quiet of the Nineteenth Precinct. But now the normal noise was different. There was an undertone of hushed waiting, with the sharp bursts of hammering and last-minute work standing out sharply through it.
She knew they had been placed in the cells behind the council hall; she knew nothing of Dolores's last-minute decision that had taken them with her.
"You tell him, private, that I'm setting up something tricky. He can laugh off anything his security guys report that I'm mixed up in. Joe'll see that he gets the whole picture beforehand. But he ain't to tell anybody not anybody that something is getting framed up. Right?" "I'll ask him," said Sally. "He is pretty desperate. He's sure some last-minute frantic assault on the Platform will be made.
Children shouted and scampered everywhere; gathered in fascinated groups about the ice-cream and candy and popcorn booths that sprang up at every corner; met arriving cousins and aunts at the train; ran on last-minute errands. Occasionally a whole package of exploding firecrackers smote the warm still air.
Emma, deep in a last-minute discussion with Buck, had a premonition of trouble before the girl gasped out her message. "Oh, Mrs. Buck, Gertie's awful sick!" "Sick!" echoed Emma and Buck, in duet. Then Emma: "But she can't be! It's impossible! She was all right a half hour ago." She was hurrying down the hall as she spoke. "Where is she?" "They've got her on one of the tables in the workroom.
Her average for the 320 miles was 85 nautical miles an hour, about 20 miles an hour faster time than either of the other two machines had made. Four days later she left Halifax for Trepassey in a last-minute effort to catch her sister planes. It seemed certain that she could not get there in time and would be forced to follow on the course a day later.
On a Sunday night in early October, 1908, I stood on a corner of the dark main street of Presho waiting for the Rosebud to open. I had appointed agents to handle my postcards and I was free to cover the story. Special trains loaded with landseekers were coming. The confusion of last-minute preparations to receive them was at its height. I found Presho as mad as a hornet.
Aboard the Elmoran, they gave the bomb a last-minute inspection and checked the catapult and the bomb-sight, and then went up on the bridge. "Ready if you are, Lieutenant. Carry on; we're just passengers." "Thank you, sir.
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