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Updated: June 22, 2025
But what a future, how unnecessary, how unjust! Suddenly she thought of Jefferson's promise to interest his father in their case and she clutched at the hope this promise held out as a drowning man clutches at a drifting straw. Jefferson would not forget his promise and he would come to Massapequa to tell her of what he had done. She was sure of that.
"You may take it to him," agreed Jack, holding out the folded paper. "Sentry, keep your eyes on this stranger," ordered the corporal of the marine guard, as he received the paper. A moment or two later, the commanding officer of the "Massapequa" was reading this brief but astounding communication: Commanding Officer, U.S.S. "Massapequa": You are towing the submarine torpedo boat "Pollard" astern.
Formerly large tracts of flat farm lands, only sparsely shaded by trees, Massapequa, in common with other villages of its kind, was utterly destitute of any natural attractions. There was the one principal street leading to the station, with a few scattered stores on either side, a church and a bank.
In going that last eighth of a mile the gunboat's speed was gradually slowed. It was a pretty piece of ship-handling. The "Massapequa" lost headway gradually a hundred feet from where Eph sat solemnly blinking back at the sailors' faces along the forward starboard rail. An officer's uniform showed at the edge of the bridge, as he called: "Ahoy, there!" "Ahoy, yourself," answered Eph.
More than a week had passed since she left Massapequa and what with corresponding with financiers, calling on editors and publishers, every moment of her time had been kept busy. She had found a quiet and reasonable priced boarding house off Washington Square and here Stott had called several times to see her. Her correspondence with Mr.
She would leave Massapequa at once, and her whereabouts must remain a secret even from her own family. As she intended to go to the Ryder house in the assumed character of Shirley Green, it would never do to run the risk of being followed home by a Ryder detective to the Rossmore cottage. She would confide in one person only Judge Stott.
Surely her woman's wit would find some way. She thought of Jefferson. Would he come to Massapequa? It was hardly probable. He would certainly learn of the change in their circumstances and his sense of delicacy would naturally keep him away for some time even if other considerations, less unselfish, did not.
Then he hurried over to Shirley's party and found them already about to leave the pier. "Come and see us, Jeff," whispered Shirley as their cab drove through the gates. "Where," he asked, "Madison Avenue?" She hesitated for a moment and then replied quickly: "No, we are stopping down on Long Island for the Summer at a cute little place called Massapequa. Run down and see us."
She laughed as she showed this to Stott: "He'll write me again," she said, "and next time his wife will sign the letter." An hour later she left Massapequa for the city. The Hon. Fitzroy Bagley had every reason to feel satisfied with himself.
George Robertson, the racing driver, in tuning up for the Vanderbilt race, went over the embankment at the Massapequa turn on Long Island at the rate of sixty miles an hour. The car turned over twice, but finally stopped right side up.
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