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"'Tain't that," corrected Inez recklessly, "it's just because we are all too lazy to do the things we know Jane will do. I have been reading up on psychology, and you may now expect me to spoil every dream of childhood with a reason why," and Inez threw her head up prophetically. "Alluring prospects this year," groaned Velma Sigsbee.
As he turned to his papers again a shrill outcry burst forth in the street below. He walked to the open window. A band of excited boys was rushing down the steps of the Sun building and up the narrow thoroughfare toward Fleet Street. Each carried a bundle of newspapers and a large broadsheet with the simple legend: MURDER OF SIGSBEE MANDERSON
“Lieut.-Commander Wainwright on his return reported the total and awful character of the calamity, and Captain Sigsbee gave the last sad order, ‘Abandon ship,’ to men overwhelmed with grief indeed, but calm and apparently unexcited.”
Dol Vincez, our dangerous adversary of last year, runs the beauty shop beyond our gate! Can you comprehend the audacity?" "We can when you say Dolorez," replied Jane. "Do you actually mean to say she has set up the College Beauty Shop at our very door?" "She has!" declared the excited Dozia. "Who would dare trust a live and workable phiz to that traitor?" "Not I," said Velma Sigsbee.
The new will was read in the offices of Bradlee, Sigsbee & Oppenheim on the day following Mr. Bingle's first ride in a taxi-cab. The heir was too bewildered to attend the meeting arranged for the same afternoon, and it had to be postponed. As a matter of fact, he sent word to the lawyers that his wife was too ill to come down that afternoon but would doubtless be better on the following day.
I took the chance of losing my job by doing so. I froze my ears oh, look at 'em! I don't care. And now you you three! You can go to the devil, with my compliments as well as Uncle Joe's. Come along, Mary! Let's get out of this. We've got fifteen million dollars coming to us, and we don't have to sit here and be insulted by people to whom we have offered charity. Good day, Mr. Sigsbee.
When the scheming, indomitable brain of Sigsbee Manderson was scattered by a shot from an unknown hand, that world lost nothing worth a single tear; it gained something memorable in a harsh reminder of the vanity of such wealth as this dead man had piled up without making one loyal friend to mourn him, without doing an act that could help his memory to the least honour.
"But suppose this man Sigsbee doesn't know anything about the will being in the belly of the Little Brass God?" suggested Tommy. "We believe he does know all about it!" said Will. "And do you believe, too, that he hired a burglar to go and steal the Little Brass God?" asked Sandy. "As I said before," Will answered, "we don't know anything about that.
The first ran: 'Good luck. Hope you win. McCay. The second also ran: 'Good luck. Hope you win. McCay. So, singularly enough, did the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. 'Great Scott! said Sigsbee. 'He seems to have been pretty anxious not to run any risk of missing you, Gossett. As he spoke, Archibald, close beside him, was looking at his watch. The hands stood at a quarter to two.
At last Commodore Schley became satisfied that the long-looked-for fleet was in the harbor of Santiago. On the morning of May 29, Captain Sigsbee, in the St. Paul, ran close enough to the mouth of the harbor to see some of the Spanish ships inside, and the long game of hide-and-seek was over.
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