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Updated: May 28, 2025
The Chief, in his pet post of vantage upon the roof of Nixey's Hotel, lowered his binoculars as the persistent whistle kept open. The lines about his keen eyes and mouth curved into a cheerful smile. The sound was coming nearer, and presently Engine 123 backed into view, a mile or so from waiting, expectant Gueldersdorp, and snorting, raced at full speed for her home in the railway-yard.
He read the mute question written upon all the faces. Part of his answer to the interrogation was standing in the Railway-yard, but they would have to wait a little while longer yet just a little longer. He whistled his pleasant melodious little tune as the porter hurried to open the gates. One pair of pale, rather ugly eyes in the crowd were illumined with pure hero-worship.
The wiry hairs of the Chief Medical Officer's red moustache bristled like a cat's. "Toch! Colonel, you will have reason to be considering me dull in the uptake, but I see through the mud wall now. And so the knowledge that ye have no equal at hiding your deeds o' darkness even in the licht o' the railway-yard was as good to ye as Daffy's Elixir.
She looked at him, and approved the male type of energy and action. "If I had been a man," she thought, "I should have wished to be one like this." But she bent her head silently, and he went on. "We have an armoured train in the railway-yard, with a Maxim and a Hotchkiss.
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