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Updated: June 7, 2025
The weather was rather chilly, and the wind blew fresh and stormy on the bay, so that Leopold seldom went out in the new boat, but did a man's work about the hotel; for as the season advanced the "help" was reduced. Miss Liverage, for some reason, seemed to be very desirous of cultivating his acquaintance, and she talked with him much more than with his father.
If I don't take it, somebody else will, or it will stay in the ground till the end of the world," said the woman. "It's a plain case; and I think the money belongs to me as much as it does to anybody else." "Where is it buried?" Before she would answer this question, Miss Liverage satisfied herself that Leopold understood the bargain they had made, and was ready to abide by all its conditions.
Leopold conducted her to the chamber, placed her valise in a chair, and saw that the wash-stand was provided with water and towels. "Are you sure this is the room that Harvey Barth had?" asked Miss Liverage, as Leopold was about to retire. "Sure as I am of anything," replied the young man. "I used to stay with him a good deal, when I wasn't busy. Was Harvey Barth a relation of yours?"
"I think I can find the place," replied Miss Liverage. "Harvey told me where it was; but I can't think of the names he used in telling me. I was pretty sure I should find the diary, when I left New York." "If you want to go to High Rock, I will take you down there in the boat," added Leopold. "I'm afraid of boats. Can't we go by land?" "Not very well.
Weeks and months passed away, and no answer to his letter came. In June he wrote another letter, to the "Superintendent of Bellevue Hospital, New York City," in which Harvey Barth died, requesting information in regard to Miss Sarah Liverage. A reply soon came, to the effect that the nurse had married one of her patients, and now lived somewhere in Oregon, the writer did not know where.
"Mercy on us!" screamed she, trying to rise from her seat, as the bow of the boat was lifted far up by the wave. "Sit down, Miss Liverage," said Leopold, pushing her back into her seat. "We shall be drowned!" cried the terrified passenger. "This is nothing; the boat is doing first rate," answered Leopold. "I shall be wet to the skin," she added, as another cloud of spray was dashed over her.
Faithful to the agreement he had made, Leopold wrote a letter that evening to Miss Liverage, directing it to the address she had given him. The letter contained but a few lines, merely intimating that he had important business with her.
Miss Liverage was reluctantly compelled to abandon all hope of finding the coveted volume. The storm ended, and the sun shone again. The wind came fresh and cold from the north-west. The nurse looked from the windows of the hotel upon the waters of the river, which, sheltered from the force of the blast, were as smooth as an inland pond though the waves rolled up white and angry beyond the point.
You won't need to rope the wheel. You didn't have the right leverage on it." "'Scuse me, Mistah Swift, but what's dat yo' said?" and Eradicate leaned forward to listen deferentially. "I said you didn't have the right leverage." "No, sah, Mistah Swift, 'scuse me, but yo' made a slight mistake. I ain't never had no liverage on dis yeah wagon. It ain't dat kind ob a wagon.
In the river she made smooth sailing of it; but the instant she passed the range of the high bluff on the north shore, the No-Name plunged into a heavy sea, burying her bow deep in a foam-crested billow, whose dense spray drenched the water-proof of Miss Liverage, and it seemed to her as if the end of all things had come.
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