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Updated: June 28, 2025
He saw approval in Dolores's face and departed, his luminous black eyes unwontedly soft and limpid. Day broke through a silver haze, and as the blue sea unrolled to view, far down to the southeast, flashed a pearly sliver of sail lazily drawing in to the coast. It was the merest streak of white against the sky, and none but Milo's sharp eyes could have seen it.
"'Nine dollars and seventy cents, said Joan of Arc's brother Bill; 'the seventy cents is for the steak and the nine dollars will help some to pay for the Looey the Fifteenth furniture in the bridal chamber. "'Save the money, John, whispered Peaches; 'and we'll buy a cow with it. "'How about a sliver of roast beef with some slapped potatoes, I said to the waiter.
But those he had dispatched for food did not return, and he started back for the gorge. As he came out on the brow of the wall, half a dozen rifles cracked. A bullet tore through the fleshy part of his shoulder, and his cheek was cut by a sliver of rock where a second bullet smashed against the cliff.
Mary hushed the shouts of the others, who were quite ready to be thrilled by their brother's precarious condition and when the doctor came in, the Watson brothers assembled to hear the verdict. "He will recover," said the doctor. "Not only recover, but regain the full use of the injured member. But it's a bad, bad sliver just the same, and some boys would cry if they had it."
Drawing a pipe and a plug of black tobacco and a jack-knife from his pocket, he shaved some of the plug into the palm of his left hand, rolled it between his palms, and filled the pipe. Then, with some deliberation, he selected a long, slender sliver from the wood box, ignited it at the stove, lighted his pipe and carefully extinguished the burning sliver. "This is a fix, now!
Little old Intuition, with a capital I, told me that they were the ginks I was after." And the accomplished old poser calmly whittled away at the sliver of wood in his hand. "Aw, come off!" I replied. "I really thought you could hand me something more plausible than that, Holmes.
"Thank you," said Emma, smiling, and sliding from the fence; "I am greatly obliged to you; good-by, Mr. Sliver." "Farewell!" replied the old man, as he once more watched her descending the hill, and thought of what Sarah had said about her "ripening for glory." It was on the afternoon of that day that Dora and Emma set out for a visit to the plains.
At any moment the beast might spring, and, as far as he was concerned it would be all over. Nearer and nearer crept the brute. Again Tom felt that queer sensation down his spine. "Hurry, Ned," he whispered. "All right," came back the reassuring answer. There was a moment of silence. Crack! A sliver of flame cut the darkness.
And Tom lingered no more near the betraying sliver of light beneath the door than he had by the gap in the hedge, but went steadily on his way. Not far from the hotel he passed a small building brightly lighted and echoing with unusual clamors of industry: the office of the Rouen Journal. The press was going, and Mr.
Nice horse, Buck. He like to eat Jonesy up one morning before Sliver and me could get to the corral. Lord! The sounds made my blood run cold! Old Buck squealing like a boar-pig in a wolf trap, and Jonesy yelling, 'Help! Murder! Police! Even that did not cure Jones from sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted. Why, once but thunder!
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