United States or Samoa ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
There was a sound of talk and laughter, and alongside the cart he saw a man leading a motor-bicycle, and apparently talking to the women in the cart. A man in uniform. The American, no doubt! The cart drew up at the farm-yard gates, and the old labourer came to open them. Everybody dismounted, except one of the girls, who, standing in the wagon, drove the horses.
Dougal was manfully striving to appear at his ease, but his lip was quivering. "A near thing that time," he observed. "It was the blame of that man's auld motor-bicycle." The stranger cast sharp eyes around the place and company. "An awkward corner, gentlemen," he said. "How many are there of you? Four men and a boy? And you have placed guards at all the entrances?"
You were at Rickwell on the night it was committed." "I was. I came over from the yacht at Gravesend to tell Morley she was waiting his orders there, and to tell Denham also. He had appointed a meeting there for me. I came on a motor-bicycle. What of that?" "A man called Scott told Steel that you were in Rickwell." "I admit it. I know Scott. He has turned King's evidence.
But just as the car was going down the short hill into the outskirts of Colchester the motor-bicycle came into view once more. "Where to, madam?" inquired the chauffeur. "This is Colchester, isn't it?" she demanded nervously, though she knew perfectly well that it was Colchester. "Yes, madam." "Straight through! Straight through!" "The London road?" "Yes. The London road," she agreed.
George had acted accordingly not only in the matter of the motor-bicycle, but in other matters. Now, on this June morning he had just begun to breast the slope rising from the hollow to Hyde Park Corner when a boy shot out from behind a huge, stationary dust-cart on the left and dashed unregarding towards him. George shouted.
"The sort of man who rides a motor-bicycle.... You really should, Margery," he went on, "learn to be more fastidious. You mustn't let yourself be either dazzled by fancy waistcoats or sympathetically moved by unclean collars. Neither is interesting." "I never said they were," Peter said. "It's the people inside them...."
So I left my motor-bicycle safely behind a cottage, and started tramping back to H.Q. by the light of my pocket flash-lamp. It was a pitch-black night. I was furiously hungry, and stopped at the first inn and gorged coffee with rum, and a large sandwich of bread and butter and fat bacon. I had barely started again it had begun to pour when a car came along with a French staff-officer inside.
It was all immensely interesting and refreshing after the dark anxieties of the shop. Edna wore a brown straw hat with poppies, that suited her admirably, and sat in the trailer like a queen, and the eight-year-old motor-bicycle ran like a thing of yesterday. Little it seemed to matter to Mr. This sort of thing was alvays going on, and on holidays one disregarded it as a matter of course.
It was a motor-bicycle, furnished in the midst with a sputtering little engine, said to contain in its entrails the power of three horses and a half. To the side thereof was attached a small vehicle like a bath-chair, in which favoured friends of the writer are from time to time either permitted or invited to ride.
Hastings, for the first time, told the story of the blood-marks, and of two or three other supposed visions of a man, tall and stooping, with a dark sallow face, which persons working on the farm, or walking near it on the hill, had either seen or imagined. Ellesborough finally had jumped on his motor-bicycle and ridden off to the police depot at Millsborough.
Word Of The Day