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Dick Ranney took out a note-book and put the name down, greatly to the boy's satisfaction. "By the way," went on Ranney, "do you want to earn half a dollar?" "Yes," answered Oren, with alacrity. "Perhaps I can put you in the way of doing so. Do you know the hotel people?" "Yes, sir. I worked there for a short time." "All the better. Then you know about the house, the location of rooms, etc.?"
"Yes, sir," answered Oren, looking a little surprised. "You see," explained Dick Ranney, "I want to make the professor a call, and I can perhaps tell from the outside whether he is in or not. He will avoid meeting me if he can. Now, do you think you can find out for me what I require?" "Yes, sir." "Then go at once." "Shall I find you here when I get back?" asked Oren, cautiously. "Yes."
Ranney, the Bowery missionary." I went in and was asked to stay for supper, and we had an earnest talk, leading to the father giving up beer. What he was going to drink for supper was thrown into the sink. I see these people occasionally, and they are doing well. Here is a picture story of a boy who left home and took his journey to the "far country." It is a true story.
Later, Bart met Ranney, who, he thought, received him coolly. The next day the young men went to church. Nothing in the way of heresy found foothold at Jefferson. It was wholly orthodox; although it was suspected that Wade and Ranney had notions of their own in religion; or rather the impression was that they had no religion of any kind.
It came Jim's turn, and he said, "Mr. Ranney, I've asked God to help me, and I'm going out of this Mission and I'm not going to drink any more whiskey." Then almost in the same breath he said, "I wonder if God will give me a pair of pants." That created a smile in the audience. I knew I could get Jim a pair of pants, and he needed them badly.
"Well, you are not a stranger to any whom you will meet, and don't need me. In the first place, I must remain and gather the sap, and can't go; in the second, I don't want to go, and won't; and in the third, I have several good reasons for not going," all very bright, and in good humor. "What do you say, Ranney?" "Well, I would like to go, and I would like to have Barton go with us."
The revolver was in Manning's hands, but he had placed his clothing temptingly over a chair between the bed and the window, but in such a position that his companion on coming out of the closet would be between the window and the burglar. Dick Ranney stood on the ladder and looked in. What he saw reassured him. Walter was in bed, and seemed to be fast asleep.
"I would rather not part with it. Indeed, I should not feel justified in selling it, considering the way it came into my hands." "Well, boy, you're a smart one; but I surmise you haven't seen the last of the owner." The speaker was right. Dick Ranney for the first time we give the name of the highwayman had no intention of going away without his revolver.
I was informed that my business was to "save souls," and in my public addresses to tell how I saved them; that political conditions must be left to the politicians and it was done. To the old church at the corner of Market and Henry streets came Dowling. He followed me as a matter of fellowship we loved each other. And came also Dave Ranney, the "puddler from Pittsburg."
"Oh, my journalistic sense is still susceptible enough and the idea's picturesque, I grant you: asking the man who proved your alibi to establish your guilt." "That's it that's it!" Granice's laugh had a ring of triumph. "Well, but how about the other chap's testimony I mean that young doctor: what was his name? Ned Ranney.
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