Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 29, 2025
I haven't time for all that sort of little monkey business. There's too much detail involved in it." "Yes, sir," said Merker, and withdrew. About two weeks later, however, he reappeared, towing after him an elderly, bearded farmer and a bashful-looking, hulking youth. "This is Mr.
There are a few names, however, which occur frequently in connection with that of Caspar Hauser, to whose opinions we shall subsequently call attention. Merker, though never thrown very closely in contact with Caspar, was a Prussian Counsellor of Police, and as such his opinion may perhaps have more than ordinary weight with some.
"I'm glad you believe in your friend, Merker," said he "and I don't doubt he's a fine fellow; but we can't have rangers, good, bad, or indifferent, hanging around here. I hope you understand that?" Merker nodded, his wide eyes growing dreamy. "It's an economic waste," he sighed, "all this cross-purposes.
"Sorry for the row," he said briefly, for he liked the gentle, slow man. "But they're a bad lot. We've got to keep that crew at arm's length for our own protection." "Ross Fletcher is not that kind," protested Merker. "I've known him for years." "Well, he's got a nerve to come in here. I've seen him and his kind holding down too good a job next old Austin's bar."
And then there's maybe a chance to use a little paint and make the shanties look like something besides shanties; that don't cost much, either, to a half-million-dollar business. And so on through a thousand things. And by and by it's costing twenty dollars and one cent to get your lumber to market; and it's B-U-S-T, bust!" "That's economic waste," put in Merker.
"No more economic waste, Merker!" he could not forbear shouting; and then rocked in his saddle with laughter over the man's look of slow surprise. "It's his catchword," he explained to Orde. "He's a slow, queer old duck, but a mighty good sort for the place. There's Post, in from the woods. He's woods foreman. I expect I'll have lively times with Post at first, getting him broken into new ways.
Here's you a good man, and Ross a good man, and you cannot work in harmony because of little things. The Government and the private owner should conduct business together for the best utilization of all raw material " "Merker," broke in Bob, with a kindly twinkle, "you're a Utopian." "Mr. Orde," returned Merker with entire respect, "you're a lumberman."
Nevertheless, the pile of stock grew, and every once in a while six-horse farm wagons from the valley would climb the mountain to take away box material enough to pack the fruit of a whole district. To Merker this was evidently a profound satisfaction.
Bob moved the fraction of an inch nearer. "Meaning I'm not welcome here?" he demanded. "This place is for the transaction of business only. Can I have Merker get you anything?" Fletcher shot a glance half of bewilderment, half of anger, in the direction of the store-keeper. Then he nodded, not without a certain dignity, at Bob. "Thanks, no," he said, and walked out, his spurs jingling.
Their horses they fed with barley hay bought from Merker. Their camp they spread away from the others, near the spring. It was dark before they lit their fire. Visitors sauntering over found George and Jim Pollock on either side the haphazard blaze stolidly warming through flapjacks, and occasionally settling into a firmer position the huge coffee pot.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking