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Updated: June 10, 2025
That 'll let us have time to stir up a little favorable evidence, which right now we don't possess. Understand all money that comes from the mine is held in escrow until this case is decided. But I 'll explain that. Going to stick around here and bask in the effulgence of really possessing a case. S'long!"
And say, Pringle, before you go ... I'm rather obliged to you for coming up here; risking taking cold and all. If it'll cheer you up any I'll undertake that anyone getting you on the trip will think there's one gosh-awful echo here." "S'long!" said Pringle. He wriggled backward and disappeared. Ten minutes later he writhed under the bush at Foy's feet. "Never saw me!" he said.
"As long as it's not dropped here, you might say as one doesn't mind, eh, s'long as it's dropped somewhere else, eh?" At that moment a cloud of dirty smoke took shape five hundred yards away at the foot of the village, and a heavy detonation rolled up to where we were. "They're plugging the bottom of the village," Orango laconically certified.
"Vell, I ain't had it long enough to 'ave made up my mind on the p'int, but you may call me wot you please, granny, s'long as you don't swear. I'll answer to Robin, or Bobin, or Dobin, or Nobin, or Flogin no, by the way, I won't answer to Flogin. I don't like that. But why call me Robin?" "Ah!" sighed the old woman, "because I once had a dear little son so named.
Just sitting and thinking is about all I'm good for, or most like just the sitting without the thinking. Why, Marianne, where'd you get them tears?" She choked them back. "I wish I wish " she began. "That's right," he nodded. "Keep right on wishing things. That's what I been doing lately. And wishing things is better than doing them. The way kids are, that's the best way to be. S'long, Marianne."
It took every ounce of nerve that Bubbles had at command to let his legs and body slip down into the cold and tragic current. It seemed certain that dead hands were reaching for him. But he screwed his courage up to the sticking point, and called to his acquaintance in the passage-mouth a whispered but nonchalant, "S'long!"
I won't say anything about your engagement and I'll ask the others not to. But folks are bound to talk, Imogene. Miss Parker now how are you goin' to stop her tellin'?" Imogene nodded knowingly. "I shan't have to, I'll bet you, ma'am," she said. "She ain't so anxious to have it talked about not s'long as there's a chance to break it off, she ain't. She'll keep still."
"Don't waste the time. Here's wishing you luck and let me know how you come out, will you?" He reached forth his hand and Wilson grasped it. "I will." "Well, s'long, old man. Good luck again." He spoke to the chauffeur. In less than a minute Wilson was alone again on the street where he had stood the night before. The Game Continues
"Well, s'long until to-morrow then," cried my father, getting up into the front row of his own ear, with the advocate beside him and Father Dan and myself behind.
He bade them good-bye one by one, and by Joe Cumberland he sat down for an instant and wished him luck. The old ranchman drew the other down closer. "They's no luck for me," he whispered, "but don't tell none of 'em. I'm about to take a longer trip than you'll ride to-day. But first I'll see 'em settled down here Dan quiet and both of 'em happy. S'long, doc thanks for takin' care of me.
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