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Those who had already scrutinized Miss Tuttle with the curiosity of an ill-defined suspicion now scrutinized her with a more palpable one, and those who had hitherto seen nothing in this heavily-veiled woman but the bereaved sister of an irresponsible suicide allowed their looks to dwell piercingly on that concealing veil, as if they would be glad to penetrate its folds and read in those beautiful features the meaning of an allusion uttered with such a sting in the tone.
"The field will be good and dry to-night, fellows," said Roger, "and we ought to get in some much-needed practice for that game with Barville. I want every fellow to come out, sure." "Ho!" gurgled Chub Tuttle, cracking a peanut and dexterously nipping the double kernel into his mouth. "We'll be there, though I don't believe we need much practice to beat that Barville bunch.
Hereupon, calling our waiting cabman, they both, to my embarrassment, assisted me to the vehicle. "Ally caffy!" directed the Tuttle person, and we were driven off, to the raised hats of the remaining cabmen, through many long, quiet streets. "I wouldn't have had this happen for anything," said Cousin Egbert, indicating me. "Lucky I got that knife away from him," said the other.
"Well, I gave Emerson the chance this mornin' to let us know whether he 's goin' to keep on bein' one of us, or whether he 's goin' to bunch alone with Mrs. Emerson after this!" Tuttle gazed in open-mouthed and wide-eyed astonishment. "What what do you mean, Nick? You did n't wire him to come?" "No, I did n't!
Presently the Texan started slowly in from the field, and Springer, at the umpire's call of "time," turned, his head drooping, toward the bench. "Hadn't you better take right, Phil?" suggested Eliot. The heartsick fellow shook his head. "I wouldn't be any good out there now," he muttered. So Tuttle was sent into right, while Grant limbered up his arm a bit by throwing a few to Sile Crane.
Were she the penniless girl her sister is, and Miss Tuttle the proud possessor of the wealth which, in your eyes, confers such distinction upon Miss Moore, you would still see me at the latter's feet, and at hers only. Miss Tuttle's charms are not potent enough to hold the heart which has once been fixed by her sister's smile."
"So help me, I didn't go as far as that!" said Tuttle. "I admit I stole the letter up at Branchville, and sent it to Robinson at once. I admit I followed you back to New York and told him all I could. But I only gave him the names and addresses of the dagos, and I never knew what they had to do!" Garrison took the bomb and placed it on his bureau. "Very good," he said.
SOUTH YARMOUTH, MASSACHUSETTS, December 23, 1917. This arrangement does not imply any precedence in merit of particular stories. BY EDWINA STANTON BABCOCK From The Pictorial Review Mrs. Tuttle arrived breathless, bearing a large gilt parrot-cage. She swept up the gangway of the Fall of Rome and was enthusiastically received. There were, however, concealed titterings and suppressed whispers.
But Cora Tuttle was not easy to please, and the first men of Washington came and went before her eyes without awakening in her any special interest till she met Francis Jeffrey, who stole her heart with a look. Those who remember her that winter say that under his influence she developed from a handsome woman into a lovely one.
We ate 'em up last year." "We!" said Sleuth Piper reprovingly. "If my memory serves me, you warmed the bench in both those games." "That wasn't my fault," retorted Tuttle cheerfully. "I was ready and prepared to play. I was on hand to step in as a pinch hitter, or to fill any sort of a gap at a moment's notice." "A pinch hitter!" whooped little Chipper Cooper.
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