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Mease, the purser, appeared on the ladder. "Lunt has not come back with the pilot-boat, Carvel," said he. "I have volunteered for a battery, and am assigned to this. You are to report to the commodore." I thanked him, and climbed quickly to the quarterdeck.
Power's secretary, George Lunt," was the reply. "Mr. Power's message is very clear. He wishes you to know that he will not be in New York until a week to-day." "How is Mr. Power?" Philip enquired. "He met with a slight accident last night," the voice continued, "and is obliged to wear his arm in a sling. Except for that he is quite well. He has already left for Philadelphia by the early train.
He got to his feet, still stunned and only half comprehending, and took the receipt out of the typewriter. There was an argument about it; Lunt told the deputies to sign it or get the hell out without the Fuzzies. They signed, inked their thumbs and printed after their signatures.
Ahmed, suppose you do the bartending while I give the kids their candy." By the time Khadra had the drinks mixed and he had distributed the Extee Three to the Fuzzies, Lunt had gotten into the easy chair, and the Fuzzies were sitting on the floor in front of him, still looking him over curiously. At least the Extee Three had taken their minds off the whistles for a while.
"They won't hurt me, Lieutenant; they haven't hurt Jack, have they?" He sat down on the floor, and a couple more came to him. "Why don't you get acquainted with them? They're cute." George Lunt wouldn't let one of his men do anything he was afraid to do; he sat down on the floor, too, and Mamma brought her baby to him. Immediately, the baby jumped onto his shoulder and tried to get onto his head.
They were just emerging, van Riebeek's automatic in the small of Mallin's back, when a constabulary car grounded beside Rainsford's airjeep. It wasn't Car Three. George Lunt jumped out, unsnapping the flap of his holster, while Ahmed Khadra was talking into the radio. "What's happened, Jack? Why didn't you wait till we got here?" "This maniac assaulted me and murdered that man over there!"
Roy C. Wilhelm, Mr. Albert R. Vail, Miss Edna True, Mrs. Marjory Morten and Mr. Alfred E. Lunt, my high appreciation for the very efficient management of their departments and their devotion to a work which if consistently maintained cannot fail to impress and attract a vast number of the enlightened public.
I'll eat the apple at the glass I gat frae uncle Johnny. She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt, In wrath she was sae vap'rin, She notic't na an aizle brunt Her braw new worset apron Out thro' that night. 'Ye little skelpie limmer's face! I daur you try sic sportin' As seek the foul thief ony place, For him to spae your fortune; Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
He opened a tin of Extee Three for the Fuzzies, as he did, another whistle in the living room began blowing. "We have a whole shoebox full of them at the post," Lunt yelled to him above the din. "We'll just write these two off as expended in service." "Well, that's real nice of you, George. I want to tell you that the Fuzzies appreciate that.
However, it was not long before, again weighted and beaten down by the continuing rain, the balloon descended upon a forest, where Lunt swung himself into a tree-top, whence he dropped through its branches to the earth, practically unhurt.
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