Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 6, 2025
He tossed away his cigarette. Gilbert offered him another of his own. "No, gratias; zat's for peon. Zese from ze swell hotel National an Torreon zay are good. I steal zem myself," pulling out his case and lighting another. He pushed his chair so that he could see young Jones better. "Well, old frand, how you feel zis long time? Eh?" "I?" said Gilbert.
"I ask," replied Craig, "because I was wondering whether there might not be something that would take him down to South Street last night. It is the only place I can think of his going to at such a late hour, unless he has gone out of town. If we do not hear from Torreon soon I think I will try what. I can find down there. Ah, what is this?" Kennedy drew forth a little silver box and opened it.
"What part did she have in the plot against Guerrero?" Torreon stood sullenly silent. Kennedy reached in another of Torreon's pockets and drew out a third little silver box of mescal buttons. Holding all three of the boxes, identically the same, before us he remarked: "Evidently Torreon was not averse to having his victim under the influence of mescal as much as possible.
There is only one case I know of on record which compares with this a case of a girl resuscitated in Paris. The girl was a chronic morphine-eater and was 'dead' forty minutes." I stood like one frozen, the thing was so incomprehensible, after the many surprises of the evening that had preceded. Torreon, in fact, did not comprehend for the moment.
By an outside stairway the lofts above were reached, hiding their secrets behind windows opaque with decades of dust. At the door we were met by Torreon and the policeman. Both appeared to be shocked beyond measure. Torreon was profuse in explanations which did not explain.
Into Arizona first, going in by Monument Pass, and then on to the south, through the country of the Navajos, down by the Aga Thia Needle a great blade of red rock jutting from out the desert, like a knife thrust. Then on and on through The Mexicos, all through the Southwest, then back again in a great circle by Chihuahua and Aldama to Laredo, to Torreon, and Albuquerque.
General Huerta, whom the army had come to regard as "shelved," lost no time in getting to Torreon.
"Walter, reach into his inside pocket." I pulled out a bunch of papers and turned them over. "What's that?" asked Kennedy as I came to something neatly enclosed in an envelope. I opened it. It was a power of attorney from Guerrero to Torreon. "Perhaps it is no crime to give a man mescal if he wants it I doubt if the penal code covers that," ejaculated Kennedy.
Guerrero is not here." We rose shortly and excused ourselves and, with general regrets in which all but Torreon joined, were bowed out with the same courtly politeness with which we had been received. As we left the house, the return to the world was quick. It was like coming out from the matinee and seeing the crowds on the street. They, not the matinee, were unreal for the moment.
He had hoped he might prolong the supper hour, since he could think of nothing else to engage his attention. But he was through, and he had consumed only a few minutes. His glance wandered to a railroad poster in the dining-room, and this interested him for an instant. Attractive names caught his eye: Torreon, Tampico, Vera Cruz, the City, Durango. They were all waiting for him, the old towns.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking