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Updated: May 8, 2025
"Lobel," said Quinlan, "he's right! We wouldn't dare do it!" "Quinlan," admitted Lobel, "it's right I wouldn't dare do it." In that same instant of his confession, though, Mr. Lobel bounded out of his chair, magically changing from a dumpy static figure of woe into the dynamo of energy and resourcefulness the glassed-in studios and the out-of-door locations knew. "I got it!" he whooped.
Once recovered from the indisposition which now weakened him, he would find means to thwart any attempts made by Mayor Packard to undermine the position he had taken as the legal husband of Olympia sufficiently so, at least, to hinder happiness between the pair whose wedded life he not only envied but was determined to break up, unless some flaw in his past could be discovered through Miss Quinlan the aunt whose goodness he had slighted and who now seemed to be in a frame of mind to help our cause if its pitiful aspects were once presented to her.
Her face, when I began, had shown such changes I was startled; but by the time I had finished a sort of apathy had fallen across it and her voice sounded hollow as she cried: "What are you telling me? A secret entrance we knew nothing about and the Misses Quinlan using it to hunt about these halls at night! Romantic, to be sure. Yes, let me see the place.
Let me get my hands on that Josephson once!" "You can't!" jeered Quinlan. "He's quit he's gone he's beat it! He wrote me a note, though, and mailed it back to me when he was beating it out of town, telling me to tell you how slick he'd worked it on you." He felt in his pockets. "I got that note here somewhere here it is.
He was about to give up in despair, confident that she had been summarily dealt with by the eagle-eyed Quinlan, when stealthy sounds came to his ears from the landing outside his door. A key was gently inserted in the lock. He prepared to defend himself by grasping the small rocker in his weak, trembling hands. The door opened a few inches, then swung wide.
Quinlan," said she, not the least bluster or fear or nervousness in her tone. "What'd be the use? He'd only laugh. Why, the same thing's going on in their family." "Still, he'd lynch you if I told him what you were trying to do." Even Ashbel saw this familiar truth of human nature.
This time it was Quinlan who interrupted: "You said it all, Lobel, and it's no need that you should go on saying it any more. The main points, I take it, are that we're all sorry and that we've lost one swell big asset by her dying only it's lucky for us she didn't take ill before we got through shooting The She-Demon." "Lucky? Huh! Actually, lucky ain't the right word for it!" said the president.
Early in the evening he heard Emily's soft voice as she called across the street in pleasant greeting to Miss Quinlan, but he could not bring himself to go out upon the little porch and speak to her, although he did not doubt his welcome. He waited until all was dark and still before he started upon his distasteful errand. It was very cold, and the streets were deserted.
This threat naturally arrayed the citizens against the strikers, over one thousand of whom were lodged in jail before the outbreak was over. Among the five ringleaders arrested and held for the grand jury were Elizabeth Gurley Flynn and Patrick Quinlan, whose trials attracted wide attention.
If ever the time comes when me or Quinlan here can do the lieutenant a good turn he'll he'll know it."
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