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Updated: May 5, 2025
Miss Tuttle said nothing, only gasped. "Valuable evidence," quoth the captain, putting the watch in his pocket. Then, with a kind look at her, called forth by the sight of her misery: "Does this hour agree with the time of her leaving the house?" "I can not say. I think so. It was some time before or after seven. I don't remember the exact minute." "It would take fifteen for her to walk here.
Jeff Tuttle was now dancing in an extreme manner with a haggard society bud aged thirty-five, and only Jake and me was left at our table. We didn't count the New Yorker any longer; he was merely raising his glass to his lips at regular intervals. He moved something like an automatic chess player I once saw.
Garrison tore the envelope apart, pulled out the yellow slip and read: Please come over to 937 Hackatack Street, Jersey City, as soon as possible. It was Dorothy, across the Hudson. A wave of relief, to know she was near and wished to see him, swept over Garrison's being. "Here," he said to Tuttle, "here's the address on a card. Report to me there at six o'clock to-night.
If ever the heart spoke in a human face, it spoke in that of Miss Tuttle as she watched her sister's husband struggling for composure above the prostrate form of her who but a few hours previous had been the envy of all the fashionable young women in Washington.
A jack-rabbit pelt well tanned is an exquisite thing too, by the way. I will go on a hunt with you whenever the ditch can be left." "And while they are chasing round after jacks, Miss Tuttle," cut in Billy Porter neatly, "I will take you anywhere you want to go. I'll show you things these kids never dreamed of! I knew this country in the days of Apache raids and the pony express."
She waited for another turn that come nothing important to any of 'em; then she drew Leonard out and made him take her for a glass of lemonade out where Aggie Tuttle was being Rebekkah at the Well, because they charged two bits for it at the bar and Aggie's was only a dime. The sale made forty cents Aggie had took in on the evening.
Aggie Tuttle and Stella Ballard at this minute is pretending to be shooting up a town with the couple of revolvers they'd brought along in their cunning little holsters. Mr. D. turns his glazed eyes to me once more. 'The real womanly woman, says he in a hushed voice, 'is God's best gift to man. Just like that. "'Landed! I says to myself. 'Throw him up on the bank and light a fire.
You saw what I've been building, didn't you, as we came through?" "I didn't notice," says I. "What is it, anyway?" "Wait until I light the lantern," says Tuttle. "Now come. This way. Don't hit your head on those wings. There!" And, say, it's a wonder I could walk right by a thing of that kind without gettin' next, even if it was kind of dark. But all I needs now is one glimpse of the outlines.
When they had been admitted and the latter saw Miss Tuttle standing there, he, too, seemed to realize that a turn had come in their affairs, and that courage rather than endurance was the quality most demanded from him. Facing the small group clustered in the dismal hall fraught with such unutterable associations, he earnestly prayed: "Do not keep me in suspense. Why am I summoned here?"
Richard Taylor so sued, and for such cause, Ruth Whieldon's father in Plymouth in 1661; while another ungallant swain is said to have sued the maid's father for the loss of time spent in courting. But sly Puritan maids found a way to circumvent and outwit Puritan law makers, and to prevent their unsanctioned lovers from being punished, too. Hear the craft of Sarah Tuttle.
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