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Updated: June 10, 2025
Without other sound than the scuffing of their bodies on the floor, and the clanking of their armor, they fought, the one to reach the dagger at his side, the other to close forever the windpipe of his adversary. Presently, the man-at-arms found what he sought, and, after tugging with ever diminishing strength, he felt the blade slip from its sheath.
Irene heard a scuffing of feet which drew the two men closer to the door at which she stood. The truth was that Buckton had drawn back to strike the man, who caught his hand and held it. "Don't try that on me!" the proprietor said, calmly. "Your bluff is weak. Now, let me give you a piece of advice, young man. I've watched this thing with my own eyes and ears, and I know exactly what is going on.
He had never doubted her, nor believed the nonsense he had heard about her, but he had just had his faith refreshed. He carried the baby to the one little bedroom of his house, scuffing a wooden rocking chair behind him across the rough floor.
There were sounds of violent scuffing, and the bass-falsetto voice cried: "What's that you stuck me with?" and another: "Drag her! Drag her back by her feet!"
The scuffing passed slowly in front of him and for a few yards along the inside of the crater.
I said once I 'd like that, but I 'm afraid I should n't, for I can't bear Indian cake and cold potatoes, that 's what the poor children always seem to get, and I should hate to have Grace and the rest see me scuffing round the back gates." "My little girl shall never come to that, if I can help it," said Mr.
Roland's pursuer was not more than fifteen paces behind, when the fugitive heard a scuffing sound. He but too well divined what it was; and the next moment his horse fell to the road, struck by the slugs from the pursuer's carbine. 'It is as well, muttered our hero, as he sprang away from the gasping beast. The next moment he had disappeared in the dense, dark wood.
"J.T." and "R.H." Below, in no less than four colors, ran the legend, "Cupid's Token." "O Lord! Dad!" cried the horrified Julien, scuffing it out with frantic feet. "How long has this been there?" "What're you doing? Leave it be!" cried the anguished artist. "It's been there since noon." "Never mind," put in Bobbie softly; "it's very pretty and tasteful even though it is a little precipitate.
And tell Colonel Jarman to start flying patrols up and down along the Hoork River; this may not be the only gang that's coming out to see us." The sounds were directly below, now the scuffing of horny-soled feet on the dirt road, the clink and rattle of slung weapons, the clicking and squeaking of Ullran voices. The lieutenant said: "Here go the flares, sir."
Trevors's grunt and his return blow came together; both men reeled back a half-pace from the impact, both hung an instant upon an unsteady balance, both sprang forward. And as they met the second time, they battled furiously, clinging together, striking mercilessly, giving and taking with only the sound of scuffing boot-heels and soft thuds and little coughing grunts breaking the silence.
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