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They're as good as a bank account, them claws be, an' entitles said party to credit in dance hall, bar room an' store, by merely slammin' 'em on the counter. "At that time the grizzly b'ar has courage. Whyever does he have it, you asks? Because you couldn't stop him; he's out of hoomanity's reach a sort o' Alexander Selkirk of a b'ar, an' you couldn't win from him.
"But the baker-man kep' on comin', though when he got to the Maddoxes' doorsteps he couldn't make change for a quarter nor tell pie from bread; an' sure 's you're born, the very day Fiddy went away to be married to Dixie, that mornin' she drawed that everlastin' numhead of a flour-food peddler out into the orchard, 'n' cut off a lock o' her hair, 'n' tied it up with a piece o' her blue ribbon, 'n' give it to him; an' old Mis' Bascom says, when he went past her house he was gazin' at it 'n' kissin' of it, 'n' his horse meanderin' on one side the road 'n' the other, 'n' the door o' the cart open 'n' slammin' to 'n' fro, 'n' ginger cookies spillin' out all over the lot.
I guess his eyes flashed, for he come out the screen door, slammin' it after him, and stalked by me as if he was too worked up to notice anything or anybody. I didn't foiler him, for his long legs git over the ground too fast for me, but thinks I, 'Mebbe I'll hev some use for my lemonade-set after all." "I hope to the land you will," responded Mrs.
The presence of so many folks seems like it makes him onusual hostile. Without waitin' to catch his breath even, he lays for the Red Dog editor, who, seein' him comin', bangs away with his '45 an' misses. The goat hits that author in the tail of his coat, an' over he goes; but he keeps on slammin' away with the '45 jest the same.
It's well along in the afternoon before I sees an openin' to drop this option in front of Old Hickory, grabbin' a minute when his desk is fairly clear, and slammin' it down just as though it had been sent in through Piddie. "Delivered on," says I. "Wants rush answer by mail." "Huh!" grunts Old Hickory, lightin' up a fresh Cassadora.
"The sound o' a horse nickerin' an' men cursin' it for the same." "A horse?" queried the skipper. And then, "On the cliff to the north? Where the divil has ye been to, Mary Kavanagh?" "Whist! Hark to that!" exclaimed the girl. "Sure, skipper, 'twas somethin' up back yonder," whispered Bill Brennen. "It sounded to meself like a gun slammin' agin a rock."
"Forget it!" says I, slammin' the door. "Ding, ding, Louie! Get a move on! If you don't fetch back here by five-thirt' you lose your job. See?" Frenchy didn't need any urgin', though, and he has the wheels goin' round in no time at all. I watched the car for a couple of blocks and didn't see anything of Benny jumpin' out of the window; so I reckons that he's too scared to make the break.
And second it's for myself I come, because you can afford to do something for me my own mother thinks she can't on account of little money." But Mr. Reynolds caught only the first reason. "What do you mean, young lady, about slammin'; that's what I want to know." His tone was belligerent. Mrs. Reynolds threw him a withering look. "Here, Suzanna," she said; "give me the bag, and you sit down.
Tommy turned kindling eyes upon him. "Go on!" "Hell," said Smithers, "gimme some tools an' I'll go through one shop an' cut the workin' force in half, just slammin' governors, reducin' valves, an' automatic cut-offs on the machines I understand!" Tommy jumped to his feet. He paced up and down, then halted and began to spout at Aten and the Keeper of Foodstuffs.
"Phe-e-e-ew!" says she, takin' one sniff, and with that she grabs out her scent bottle and runs back, slammin' the door behind her. "Cliffy," says I, "you don't seem to be makin' much of a hit with your Ellis Island bunch." "What I want to know," says Mr. Robert, "is what this is all about!" But Clifford didn't have the key.
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