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Updated: June 10, 2025
Two mornings later Percy Whittington was awakened in his room at the Thorndike in Rockland by a bell-boy hammering on his door. "What's the matter?" he inquired, stupidly. "Five o'clock! Five o'clock! Your call!" "Is that all?" exclaimed Percy, relieved. "I didn't know but the hotel might be on fire." He rolled over for another nap.
In the rear of the court-room there was a scuffle that caused every one to turn and look. A man, who had tried to force his way past the tipstaffs, was being violently ejected, and, as he disappeared, he waved a paper toward Mr. Thorndike. The banker recognized him as his chief clerk. Andrews rose anxiously. "That man wanted to get to you. I'll see what it is. Maybe it's important." Mr.
"What a poor, weak man his father must be," said Hannah, contemptuously, "to let a woman like her turn him against his own flesh and blood!" "I agree with you, Hannah. I hope some time he may see his mistake." Carl kept on his way to the hotel. It was summer and Mr. Thorndike was sitting on the piazza smoking a cigar. To him Carl delivered the note.
Thorndike pulled him back. "Maybe it is," he said dryly. "But I can't see him now, I'm busy." Slowly the long line of derelicts, of birds of prey, of sorry, weak failures, passed before the seat of judgment. Mr. Thorndike had moved into a chair nearer to the rail, and from time to time made a note upon the back of an envelope. He had forgotten the time or had chosen to disregard it.
"Some day," said Ainsley, "I have a confession to make to you." When its turn came, the private secretary, somewhat apologetically, laid the letter in front of the Wisest Man in Wall Street. "From Mrs. Austin, probation officer, Court of General Sessions," he explained. "Wants a letter about Spear. He's been convicted of theft. Comes up for sentence Tuesday." "Spear?" repeated Arnold Thorndike.
I know he doesn't like him." This set Carl to thinking, but something occurred soon afterwards that impressed him still more. Occasionally a customer of the house visited Milford, wishing to give a special order for some particular line of goods. About this time a Mr. Thorndike, from Chicago, came to Milford on this errand, and put up at the hotel.
He's robbed you, robbed his wife. Best thing I ever did for YOU was to send him up the river." The mother smiled upon him beseechingly. "Could you give me a pass?" she said. Young Andrews flung up his hands and appealed to Thorndike. "Isn't that just like a mother?" he protested.
A policeman, chewing stolidly, nodded toward an elevator shaft, and other policemen nodded him further on to the office of the district attorney. There Arnold Thorndike breathed more freely. He was again among his own people.
Thorndike half rose from his seat, and looked after him. "Who is that?" he asked, in an exciting whisper. "A man named Stark, who is boarding at the hotel. Do you know him?" "Do I know him?" repeated Thorndike. "He is one of the most successful burglars in the West." Carl stared at Mr. Thorndike in surprise and dismay. "A burglar!" he ejaculated.
On the promotion of Dr. The author of "Albumazar," a piece presented before the King at Cambridge in 1614, and printed in the same year, was John Tomkis. Richard Parry, who died September 26, 1623. Herbert Thorndike was then Fellow of Trinity College. He was ejected from his Fellowship by the usurped powers, and admitted to the Rectory of Barley in Hertfordshire, July 2, 1642. On the death of Dr.
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