United States or Belize ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
An' the boys, they was starin' with their eyes, an' their mouths, and forgettin' t' smoke, an' lettin' their pipes an' cigars go dead in their hands, while he talked. Talk! Sa-a-ay, girl, that guy, he could talk the leads right out of a ruled, locked form. I didn't catch his name.
Bud loved a good car just as he had loved a good horse in the years behind him. Just as he used to walk around a good horse and pat its sleek shoulder and feel the hard muscles of its trim legs, so now he made love to this big car. Let that old hen of Foster's crab the trip south? He should sa-a-ay not!
An' say, that guy kept on gettin' richer and richer till even his wife was almost satisfied. But sa-a-ay, girl, was that chap lonesome! One day he come up here looking like a dog that's run off with the steak. He was just dyin' for a kind word, an' he sniffed the smell of the ink and the hot metal like it was June roses.
Leverage was incredulous. "Yes." Carroll grinned. "I was the man!" "You ? Holy sufferin' mackerel! Sa-a-ay! Was that chicken I seen you with downtown, Lawrence's sister-in-law?" "Yes. Miss Evelyn Rogers. And Good Lord! Leverage, how that girl can talk! She holds all records for conversational distance and speed. She talked me dumb." Leverage was staring respectfully at Carroll.
"Sa-a-ay, girl," drawled the man's voice, with a familiar little cackling laugh in it, "sa-a-ay, girl, the policeman on th' beat's got me spotted for a suspicious character. I been hoofin' it up an' down this block like a distracted mamma waitin' for her daughter t' come home from a boat ride." "Blackie! It's only you!"
Carroll made a wry face. "Needn't rub it in. It's bad enough anyway. And" growing serious "I'm hoping to meet Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence. They ought to prove interesting." But Leverage could not tear himself away from the sheer humor of the situation: "What the devil you and her going to talk about? Foxtrot steps? Is the camel walk vulgar? Frat dance? Next week's basketball game? Sa-a-ay!
He took it meekly enough, but not Sheener. Sheener came to me with fire in his eye. "Sa-a-ay," he demanded, "what's coming off here, anyhow? What do you think you're trying to pull?" I asked him what he was talking about, and he said: "Evans says you've given him the hook." "That's right," I admitted. "He's through." "He is not," Sheener told me flatly. "You can't fire that guy." "Why not?"
The Pacific is indeed big; but whether he found a place for a display of his talents in it or not, the fact remains he had flown into space like a witch on a broomstick. The little chap with his arm in a sling started to run after the carriage, bleating, "Captain! I say, Captain! I sa-a-ay!" but after a few steps stopped short, hung his head, and walked back slowly.
"'Don't care if I do, says he, and swung his long legs off the piano stool and we made for the billiard room, with the whole gang after us. Sa-a-ay, girl, I'm a modest violet, I am, but I don't mind mentionin' that the general opinion up at the club is that I'm a little wizard with the cue.
"You know him?" questioned Carroll easily. "Know him? I'll say I do. Why, man, that's Roland Warren!" "Warren! Roland Warren! Not the clubman?" "The very same one, Carroll, an' none other. Well, I'm a sonovagun! Sa-a-ay, something surely has been started here." He swung around on the taxi-driver. "You, Walters!" "Yes, sir?" "You are sure the suit-case is still in front?" "Yes, sir."
Word Of The Day