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Updated: October 15, 2025
I will confess I felt much better than I had for some time past. "There's one 'mystery of the sea' gone to pot, at any rate. And now, if you don't mind, I think I'll have another of your nips, McCord." He pushed my glass across the table and got up, and behind his back his shoulder rose to scour the corners of the room, like an incorruptible sentinel. I forgot to take up my gin, watching him.
'That fellow must be either a good chap or asleep, I said to myself. And I rolled out quick and went above-decks. He wasn't at the wheel. I called him: 'Björnsen! Björnsen! No answer." McCord was really telling a story now. He paused for a long moment, one hand shielding an ear and his eyeballs turned far up. "That was the first time I really went over the hulk," he ran on.
I watched their restless circuit my friend and his jumping shadow. He stopped and bent forward to examine a Sunday-supplement chromo tacked on the wall, and the two heads drew together, as though there were something to whisper. Of a sudden I seemed to hear the old gnome croaking, "Now that story sounds to me kind of " McCord straightened up and turned to face me.
Joe Mauser accepting bounces in both rank and caste. And then, Joe Mauser being properly thankful and helpful to Freddy and Sam Soligen, in their turn. So near the realization of the dream. He entered his house wearily, finally free of all the ridiculous questioning of the commission and the courts martial of Mauser and Cogswell, and Flaubert, Hideka and their commander, General McCord.
Temple called out, "Alfred McCord, Elk Patrol, First Bridgeboro, New Jersey Troop." There was a slight bustle among the Bridgeboro boys to make way for their little member who started threading his way among the throng, his thin little face lighted with a nervous smile of utter delight. "Bully for Alf!" some one called. "Greetings, Shorty," another shouted. He stood before Mr.
After a moment or so the cat followed and sat on her haunches at the foot of the ladder and stared at us without winking. "I think she wants something to eat," I said to McCord. He lit a lantern and went into the galley. Returning with a chunk of salt beef, he threw it into the farther corner.
Raymond uttered one deep, low, "O-o-o-o!" Then McCord begged to be let out; Weir's big head, with its shock of hair, resembled that of an angry lion; little Trace screamed, and Duncan yelled. "Peg, how're you?" asked Murray, walking up to Ken. "It's always pretty hot the first few times. But afterward it's fine. Look at Reddy." "Murray, give Peg a good stewin'," put in Arthurs.
McCord to be sure mumbles something about time; it is highly diverting to have country lasses talk about want of time, particularly those I am now speaking of, unless they have greatly altered for the better since I saw them last, and turned their hands to cow-keeping, tending of poultry, or something of that description; but I'll be bound for it they still employ themselves with nothing else except perching behind the stove, growling, and driving carriols."
Hit!" yelled Homans to Blake. Blake hit safely over second, scoring Weir. Then Trace flied out to left field. "Three runs!" called Homans. "Boys, that's a start! Three more runs and this game's ours! Now, Peg, now!" Ken did not need that trenchant thrilling now. The look in Worry's eyes had been enough. He threw speed to Halloway, and on the third ball retired him, Raymond to McCord.
"This McCord a friend of yourn?" he inquired. "In a way," I said. "Hm-m well " He turned on his thwart to squint ahead. "There she is," he announced, with something of relief, I thought. It was hard at that time of night to make anything but a black blotch out of the Abbie Rose. Of course I could see that she was pot-bellied, like the rest of the coastwise sisterhood.
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