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Henrietta Templeton Price was making better work of the cigarettes, and Beryl Mae Macomber, a wealthy young society heiress and debutante, aged seventeen, was saying that she had always felt this lack in Red Gap and would of been in the movies long since if her aunt had listened to reason.
Men like Sears can't help but pull at that stage." "Thet was the quickest trick I ever seen," declared Macomber. They watched Wildfire run down the slope, out into the valley, with a streak of rising dust out behind. They all saw when there ceased to be that peculiar rising of dust. Wildfire appeared to shoot ahead at greater speed. Then he slowed up.
She was wearing a stiffly starched apron and her hair had been plastered down and her face scrubbed so that the deep rings in the flabby flesh below her eyes were thereby accentuated. Very pointedly she looked at Joe and very definitely she spoke: "You'll see that they get back at a decent hour? And don't let 'em go in the water." It might have been the tone with which she exhorted Mr. Macomber.
Gonna get a cigar. Wouldn't you like one?" he added casually to Joe, at the same time propelling him to the steps. Joe felt he was being manipulated. He turned again in a desperate effort to regain some of the lost ground and his tone was very respectful, quite abject. "Mrs. Macomber, please accept my humble apologies. Perhaps I should have spoken to you." He struggled.
Perhaps no better description of Miss Macomber as a laborer in the vineyard of her Lord can be given than she herself furnishes in her printed letters, which are found scattered through the missionary magazines of the denomination to which she belonged. "DONG-YAHN, April 15, 1837.
"'Isn't he a glorious thing! she says; 'and how grateful we should be for the dazzling bit of colour he brings into our drab existence! She is a good deal like that herself at times. And I met Beryl Mae Macomber, a well known young society girl of seventeen, and Beryl Mae says: 'He's awfully good looking, but do you think he's sincere? And even Mrs.
Sid had found out the contents of Charlie's pocket when it had been emptied in behalf of the bun fund, and at the "collation" in the woods, he concluded his speech with these words: "I learn that the Hon. Charles Pitt Macomber, who has been forbidden to fire off crackers, has some poetry, and I will ask him to read it I would only add that freemen must stand for their rights."
The fact remained, however, that there were only two wagers against the King, and both were put up by Indians. Macomber was betting on second or third place for his horse in the big race. No odds of Bostil's tempted him. "Say, where's Wetherby?" rolled out Bostil. "He'll back his hoss." "Wetherby's ridin' over to-morrow," replied Macomber. "But you gotta bet him two to one."
Percy Hailey Martingale had read a paper entitled "My Trip to the Panama-Pacific Exposition," after which a dainty collation was served by mine hostess Mrs. Judge Ballard; that Miss Beryl Mae Macomber, the well-known young society heiress, was visiting friends in Spokane where rumour hath it that she would take a course of lessons in elocution; and that Mrs.
Some of them were nearly two pounds; and although I had a strong casting-line, they were often most difficult to land, for a series of small cataracts dashed down amongst huge rocks and slippery boulders, until, a hundred feet below, the calm, deep Macomber pool was reached.
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