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Updated: June 5, 2025
If you really prefer not to take the school," he went on, with some embarrassment, "I hope you will call on me to help you in any other way; but if you want the school you shall have it, and no annoyance with it that I can help." Miss Northrop repented that she had repented her confidence.
I heard Kennedy ask as he opened our door the next morning, just as I had finished dressing. He had admitted a young woman, who greeted us with nervous, wide- staring eyes. "It's it's about Archer," she cried, sinking into the nearest chair and staring from one to the other of us. She was the wife of Professor Archer Northrop, director of the archeological department at the university.
She has been in Mexico City for a few days, having just returned from Mitla, where she met Professor Northrop. It is rumored that Professor Northrop has succeeded in smuggling out of the country a very important stone bearing an inscription which, I understand, is of more than ordinary interest.
Before Northrop was an idol, a hideous thing on which frogs and snakes squatted and coiled. It was a fitting piece to accompany the gruesome occupant of the little room in his long, last vigil.
"There is as much mystery about that as about Harborough." "All mystery, sir!" agreed Northrop. "It's odd I came through them woods on the Shawl there about a quarter to ten last night: I'd been across to the other side to see a man of mine that's poorly in bed.
Northrop, in his innocence of heart, had showed him that inscription." Kennedy said nothing as he finally tied up the little packet of letters and locked it in his safe. He was not given to hasty generalizations; neither was he one who clung doggedly to a preconceived theory. It was still early in the afternoon. Craig and I decided to drop into the museum again in order to see Doctor Bernardo.
If it had been one of his own sisters he would have said: "Oh, well, we have to take the world as we find it. Brace up, little girl; I'll put you safe through, and you'll find it's not so bad, after all." But what he said to Winifred Northrop was: "It is outrageous! Such brutes as Garvey have no business to look at a lady!
Tell him what I propose to do, and make an appointment with him for me. Now run along, both of you I want to speak to this gentleman a minute." He took Northrop's arm, turned him in the direction of the Shawl, walked him a few paces, and then asked him a direct question. "Now, what do you know of this man Harborough?" "He's a queer chap a mystery man, sir," answered Northrop.
A Story of the Capture of General Prescott in 1777. By WILLIAM P. CHIPMAN. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. This story is based upon actual events which occurred during the British occupation of the waters of Narragansett Bay. Darius Wale and William Northrop belong to "the coast patrol." The story is a strong one, dealing only with actual events.
"Then don't bother," said Avice. "I'm going to stay with Mrs. Northrop. They've insisted on it." Brereton was going out of the cell, leaving father and daughter together, when he suddenly turned back. "You're a man of sense, Harborough," he said. "Come, now have you got anything to suggest as to how you can be helped?" Harborough smiled and gave his counsel a knowing look.
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