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Updated: May 11, 2025
She watched the departure of the car from the window, and then slammed the door, knowing well that the noise would arouse all sorts of apprehensions in Riley's soul. A vigorous knock soon rewarded her efforts. "Come in," she called, innocently. Riley stood in the doorway, with a hand resting on each hip, astonished into silence by the peaceful scene before him.
He supposed he would have to replace Riley's clothes, which he did, very matter-of-factly and without any comment whatever, restitution being in this case a mere matter of sorting out three suits of his own underwear, which were much better than Riley's, and placing them on the cook's bed. "That you, Lance? Where in the world have you been all this while?
"We'll row your honor the whole way, av it's plazing to you." "Why, thank you, I'd rather find some quicker mode of proceeding." "Maybe you'd have a chaise? There's an elegant one at M'Cassidy's." "Sure, the blind mare's in foal," said the bow oar. "The devil a step she can go out of a walk; so, your honor, take Tim Riley's car, and you'll get up cheap.
That what the Lorrigans had set out to do, the Lorrigans had done. At the ranch he found Riley at the bunk house wrangling with the boys over his lost wardrobe. In Riley's opinion it was a darned poor idea of a darned poor joke, and it took a darned poor man to perpetrate it. Lance's arrival scarcely interrupted the jangle of voices.
Of Riley's underwear there was left the leg of one pair of drawers, which Lance reserved for dusting the desks and the globe that had by some miracle escaped. While the floor was drying he took out the broken windowpane, discovered that the one from the chicken house was too short, and cut his thumb while he chipped off a piece of glass from the other to fill the space.
Winn was greatly perturbed by hearing from the Whatnot's engine-room the inquiries concerning Sheriff Riley's skiff, and Cap'n Cod's replies. He had not meant to steal the boat, of course, but it now seemed that he was regarded as having done so, and was being hotly pursued by some one interested in its recovery.
But Riley's anxiety had resulted in his anticipating them, and the familiar face at that moment showed above the stairway, as the old man approached them, out of breath. "Ah, there ye are, praise be ter th' Virgin Mary," he panted. "Ah, sich a mess as ye're gettin' poor old Riley in.
You put me on a pedestal, and that's a tottering bit of architecture." "Not on a pedestal," he contradicted, "but right by my side, walking together, that's the way we want to go." "That's the only way. It's the way my parents went and the way yours are still going." She rose and brought to him a little book. "Read Riley's 'Song of the Road," she told him.
As he was getting ready to start there was a shrill cry, and the midget came waddling through the crowd and climbed over the side of the car and up Riley's body until it clung to his shoulder like a monkey. A great many of the thoughtless laughed at this. They did not understand the significance of the move. "Get ready to cut her loose," shouted Riley.
"We've got our own operator at Ten Mile, and Brissac and Frisbie have each a set of instruments which they cut in on the line with wherever they happen to be. I don't know where Brissac is, but Frisbie is down about Riley's to-night, I think. After you pass him you'll have no help from the wires." "I'll have what I can get," asserted Ford. "Now tell me what we're likely to meet."
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