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Updated: May 19, 2025
"And concluded they were what remained of the aconitine pills which Grimes, the McIntyre butler, said he left on the hall table Sunday afternoon." Stone smiled with what Kent, who was watching him closely, judged to be an odd mixture of relief and apprehension.
What miracle had led the child thither? "Did McIntyre read Job to you?" "Yes." "Every bit of it?" "Yes all but a lot o' mushy talk in the middle. Them jiggers had such an awful lot to say we skipped some of it. But we read the end." "Ah, you've got a fine story-book now, Tim! You'll not find such another. Ask McIntyre to read you some more of its stories. They're better than 'Nicholas Nickleby."
Old McIntyre leaned back in his chair with a bitter smile upon his lips, his thin face crinkled into a thousand puckers, and his small eyes shining with envy and greed. His lean yellow hand upon the table was clenched until the knuckles gleamed white in the lamplight. Laura, on the other hand, leaned forward, her lips parted, drinking in her brother's words with a glow of colour upon either cheek.
McIntyre said: "We will take the books, as they say in my country." "Ay, and in mine," said Shock, coming out of his dream with a start. Mrs. McIntyre laid the Bible on the table. As he listened to the vivid words that carried with them the very scent and silence of the hungry wilderness, there fell upon Shock's ears the long howl and staccato bark of the prairie wolf.
Barbara McIntyre released her grasp of her sister's arm and collapsed on a chair. Stone, still supporting Helen, felt her muscles grow taut and an instant later she stepped back from his side and stood by her sister. As the two girls faced the circle of men, the likeness between them was extraordinary.
As Barbara sped out happy in having gained her way, she announced, as a parting shot, "If you can be nasty to Helen; father, I can be nasty, too." Colonel McIntyre brought his fist down on a smoking table with such force that he scattered its contents over the floor. When he rose from picking up the debris, he found Mrs. Brewster at his elbow. "Can I help?" she asked.
The troops upon whom this duty fell were the 2nd Ghurkhas, the 1st Dorset and the Derbyshire, with the Gordon Highlanders in reserve. The first to cross were the gallant Ghurkhas, led by Colonel Travers, Captains McIntyre, Bower, and Norie, and Lieutenant Tillard; these succeeded in crossing unhurt, but with the loss of 30 men, and Major Judge and Captain Robinson.
"Where were you on Tuesday morning at about five o'clock?" asked Penfield, first consulting some memoranda on his desk. "On my way home," explained O'Ryan. "My relief had just come." "Does your beat take in the McIntyre residence?" "It does, sir." "Did you observe any one loitering in the vicinity of the residence prior to five o'clock, Tuesday morning?" "No, sir.
James McIntyre?" she asked, lifting her sea-blue eyes set in her apple-red face, and fixing her firm little lips in dignity. Candace was a servant and knew her place, but she felt the importance of her mission, and meant to have no disrespect done to it. "I am Mr. George McIntyre," the gentleman replied, and, indicating the man at the door, "Mr.
Whoever picked him up must have been some athlete, and" running his eyes up and down Colonel McIntyre's well-knit, erect frame "pretty familiar with the workings of this casket." "Pooh! It's not so difficult a feat," McIntyre shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. "My daughters, as children, used to play hide and seek inside the casket with each new governess." Ferguson stepped forward briskly. "Mr.
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