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Updated: June 3, 2025
Those are Bolivars. Try one?" Bull helped himself with a laugh that was about as real as the other's. "The pipe of peace, eh?" he said. "That's how I hope," Peterman replied. Bull nodded as he lit his cigar. "Most of us hope for peace, and do our best to aggravate war. That so?" "It's damn fool human nature." Peterman sat back in his chair, and laughed a little boisterously.
After school she had passed the seated row of men, uneasily stirring their hats in response to her collected greeting; and, with Mrs. Peterman, gone into the body of the hotel. Gordon could not follow her. Anyhow, the presentation could be made with better effect in the obscurity of the maples to-morrow night ... her gratitude could have fuller sweep. He made his way finally, reluctantly, home.
His irritation did not last long, however, and his consolation was found in the fact that Elas Peterman was awaiting him, and Elas Peterman was the man who had so outrageously offended against his ideas of chivalry. He stood up and brushed the fallen cigar ash from his clothing.
Peterman did not return to his desk. He crossed to the window and stood gazing out of it. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets. And his fingers moved nervously, rattling the contents of them. He was a goodly specimen of manhood. He was tall, and squarely erect, and carried himself with that military bearing which seems to belong to all the races of Teutonic origin.
The only information I could glean from them was that their word for travelling, or going, or coming, was "Peterman". They pointed to Mount Destruction, and intimated that they were aware that we had "Petermaned" there, that we had "Petermaned" both from the east and to the west. Everything with them was "Peterman". It is singular how identical the word is in sound with the name of the late Dr.
His first impression startled him not a little. It was the first time he had encountered the man from Sachigo. Bull moved into the room with that large ease which big men so often display. And he paused and frankly gripped the carefully manicured hand Peterman held out to him. "I'm real glad to meet you, Mr. Peterman," he said quietly.
Sometimes it approached severity. But she understood its necessity for obtaining results. Her orders would be carried out. Elas Peterman set the 'phone back in its place. His dark eyes were smiling. They were shining, too, in a curious, not altogether wholesome fashion.
Here, I want you to hear things the way they seem to me. You think the Skandinavia's no sickly kid. Well, I tell you it is. Anyway, in this thing. Peterman wants to buy me. Why? Don't you know? I think you do. The Skandinavia's got a mighty bad scare right now. The Shagaunty's played out. And I'm jumping the market. For the practical purposes of the moment the Skandinavia's mighty sick.
"I I he's come down for that purpose." The man's eyes were searching. "Where is he?" "At the Chateau. He's waiting to hear from you for an appointment." Peterman flung himself back in his chair with a great laugh. Nancy missed the mirthless tone of it. "Say, my dear," he cried at last. "How did you do it? How in You're just as bright and smart as I reckoned.
And Bat recognised the battle note in the tone. "How?" Bull flung the message across the desk. "The Skandinavia's representative is arriving on the Myra," he said. Then he added, "Elas Peterman says so." "What for?" Bat had picked up the message and stood reading it. The other searched amongst his papers. "I kind of forgot putting you wise before," he said.
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