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Updated: May 22, 2025
Tembarom felt that he must be looking at the back of his head, and he wondered what was the matter with it. Was his hair cut in a way so un-English that it had paralyzed him? The back of his head began to creep under an investigation so prolonged. No sound at all, no movement. Tembarom stealthily took out his watch good old Waterbury he wasn't going to part with and began to watch the minute-hand.
I have done what I promised, and there's an end of it." He turned to the door. The minute-hand of the clock was getting on from the twenty minutes to the quarter. "Done what you promised?" I repeated, getting up to stop him. "Yes," he said, with his hand on the lock. "I have given my message. Whatever happens, remember that. Good-afternoon." He was gone before I could speak again.
It was a dirty little box, this counting-house, with nothing in it but an old ricketty desk and two stools, a hat-peg, an ancient almanack, an inkstand with no ink, and the stump of one pen, and an eight-day clock which hadn't gone for eighteen years at least, and of which the minute-hand had been twisted off for a tooth-pick.
A little gilt clock over her typewriter-desk lay in fragments. Arthur hastily glanced at his own watch. "Great bombs and little cannon-balls!" he shouted. "Look at this!" His watch trembled and quivered in his hand. The hands were going around so swiftly it was impossible to watch the minute-hand, and the hour-hand traveled like the wind. While they looked, it made two complete revolutions.
I stood watching the dial one day, it was near one o'clock, and a strange attraction held me fastened to the spot. Presently something appeared to trip or stumble inside of the infernal mechanism. I waited for the sound I knew was to follow. How nervous I got! It seemed to me that it would never strike. At last the minute-hand reached the highest point of the dial.
At length, after one or two impatient glances at the progress of the minute-hand of the clock, having compared it with his own watch, a huge and antique gold repeater, and having twitched about his features to give due emphasis to one or two peevish pshaws, he hailed the old lady of the cavern. "Good woman, what the d l is her name? Mrs. Macleuchar!" Mrs.
In the darkness "Slim" could do the job, make his getaway along with Dave, and be safe from any chance of identification. Bromfield, to save his own hide, would keep still. If he didn't, Durand was prepared to shift the murder upon his shoulders. The minute-hand of the watch passed down from the quarter to the half and from the half to the three quarters. Still the telephone bell did not ring.
One of the gentlemen to whom I delivered it immediately on landing, in his agitation let it fall, whereby the minute-hand was broken, but the works were not in the smallest degree injured, and the loss of the hand was afterwards supplied.
When Abe took the first mortgage on the house in order to invest in an indefinitely located Mexican gold-mine, the melodeon dropped one of its keys, but the roses nodded on with the same old sunny hope; when Abe had to take the second mortgage and Tenafly Gold became a forbidden topic of conversation, the minute-hand fell off the parlor clock, but the flowers on the back of the old chair blossomed on none the less serenely.
His sermons had always lasted exactly half an hour. With the clock right before him, and with his ready flow of words, this had been no difficult matter as long as he could see. But it was the same when he was blind; as the minute-hand came to the point, marking the expiration of the thirty minutes, he concluded his sermon. Under his great sorrow he was always patient.
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