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Updated: June 18, 2025
Once more the motor's thrumming pulled him to the window. Again he craned and listened, and this time he saw it, flying low so that the landing gear showed plainly and he could even see Bland in the rear seat. He knew him by the drooping shoulders, the set of his head, by that indefinable something which identifies a man to his acquaintances at a distance. In the front seat was a stranger.
Women, in all the semi-barbaric costliness with which their sex loves to adorn itself of a night, stepped from limousines with their tiny silvery feet twinkling beneath the load of gorgeous furs and vivid opera-cloaks; while well-groomed men, in the smart insignificance of their evening clothes, guided the perilous passage of their fair consorts from the motor's step to the pavement.
At that, there's two weeks' work here, even if the motor's all right. I haven't looked 'er over yet but seeing the gas tank is empty, I'm guessing she run as long as she had anything to run on, and that they landed for lack of gas. If that's the case, the motor's probably all right. I'll turn 'er over and see, soon as you get gas and oil down here. And that better be right off.
It was a full minute before he finally managed to gasp: "They've come they've been here! I didn't see them!" "What in the world do you mean?" cried Mr. Fulton, shaking the excited boy with his left hand. "If you didn't see them, how do you " "I didn't. But it's gone the motor's gone. "What!" yelled the whole crew at once.
Hilliard is showing her a few things because the mutual friend who was to have done it, couldn't. He can't show her Shasta and McCloud, though, as you can; for a mere motor's no attraction compared to a private car. I'm sure she's never been in one as gorgeous as the kind in America yours in particular." "Well, we must give her the chance to try it," said Falconer.
She stood fondling the horses and chattering while the two men wrestled with the motor's internal arrangements, and Muriel longed desperately to give her animal the rein and flee away from the mocking sprite that gibed at her from Nick's eyes. Whence came it, this feeling of insecurity, this perpetual sense of fighting against the inevitable?
It gasped out a cough a couple of times and turned over in a dying fashion for a few revolutions and then stopped dead. The boys were adrift in the teeth of the storm in a crippled boat. "What's the matter?" roared back Tubby from the wheel. "She's lost steerage way!" "Motor's gone dead," howled back Merritt laconically. "Great Scott, we are in for it now! What's the matter?"
"You don't mean to say the Turnours have been out, and waiting?" "I do, but don't be so despairing. I told them I thought I'd better look the car over, and wasn't quite ready. That's always true, you know. A motor's like a pretty woman; never objects to being looked at. So they said 'damn, and strolled off to buy chocolates."
"The motor's making such a row, she wouldn't catch the words." "She joined us h lately," explained Molly hurriedly. "I remember now. You used to talk rather a lot about her and want us to meet." "Well, you have your wish now, dearie," Jack chimed in. "You can introduce them with your own fair hand." "Wait wait."
But I know she will," and he patted the big propeller and the motor's shining cylinders as though the machine was a thing alive, like a horse or a dog, who could understand him. He climbed to his seat, the other one holding a bag of sand to maintain a good balance. "Start her," ordered Tom, and Mr. Jackson twisted the propeller.
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