Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 25, 2025
The sound echoed and re-echoed throughout the cavern, showing that the place was even more roomy than he had anticipated. He waited several minutes, then saw Peterson's light. "What's up?" demanded the lumberman as he approached. "Find anything important?" "I should say so," answered Dick. "Look there." Peterson did so, then gave a cry of astonishment. "Silver, lad, silver! And a skull!"
Twice a week, then, the medical student would swing out there along the dark country roads, and spend a pleasant hour in Peterson's comfortable study, discussing, over a glass of old port, the gossip of the 'varsity or the latest developments of medicine or of surgery.
Something in Peterson's manner forced her to believe that he had indeed served out his full sentence, and for the moment had nothing to fear from the police. Clodagh hid her disappointment with a little swagger. "It suits us just as well as you, to finish up at ten o'clock and get it over," she said. "If we can, we will. If we can't, you'll have to wait.
This ground is fished by hand lines, gill nets, and trawls mainly by boats and small craft. Cod, haddock, and pollock are found here in the spring and fall months: hake in the muddy parts in summer. It is a summer hand-line ground for cod and pollock also. Peterson's Ground. Lies distant SW. from Monhegan 20 miles and SSE. from Seguin 16 miles.
On each side of the river bank, behind clumps of trees, stood the mansions of those men for whom, according to Scraggy Peterson's belief, the world had been made. Finally her gaze dropped to the scow, where little rivers of water made crooked paths across the deck. Piles of planks reared high at her back, and edged the scow with the squareness of a room.
The preliminary questions were being asked; the card with Peterson's signature on it was taken out of the file for its identification although he was personally known to everybody in the town for no detail of caution and dignity could be omitted on an occasion so important as that; Axel Peterson was taking his breath in short bites, his hand trembling as he took up the pen to enter his name when that moment should arrive; his voice was shaking as he answered the questions put to him by the clerk.
'After us! Peterson's face paled at this corroboration of his worst suspicions. 'My oath! Gable's in gaol at Yarraman; Phil an' Jacker an' Ted's been took, an' now they're after you. Fer what? 'Rob'ry under arms, the feller said, an' shooting with intent' r somethin'. Dick whistled incredulously. Here was fame, here was glory.
At two other telephones around the big table, his chief deputy and the senior security officer of the task force handled a half dozen calls during Peterson's lengthy conversation.
The Levies, however, were not keeping close enough to the hillside, and were gradually pushing Peterson's company off to the left, where they would have been exposed to the fire of the big sangar plus the flanking fire from the sangars up the spur on the left bank of the river.
"You two appear to have met before," remarked Harboro, looking with quiet inquiry from Sylvia to Peterson, and back to Sylvia. "Yes, in San Antonio," she explained. It had been in Eagle Pass, really, but she did not want Harboro to know. The smile on Peterson's face had become curiously fixed. "Yes, in San Antonio," he echoed. "He knew my father," added Sylvia.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking