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Updated: May 18, 2025
Betty peered uncertainly through the gloom to make sure that Jean and her friends and the Blunderbuss were still out. "If the whole class wants her badly enough, they'll think of her." Marie stepped out into the light of the one lantern and called the class to order. "It's a queer time to have a class-meeting," she said, "and I'm not sure that it's constitutional, but who cares about that?
"Maybe I will, some day," said Tom. He spoke rather uncertainly. The truth of the matter was that he was still thinking deeply of the visit of Professor Beecher to Mary Nestor, and wondering what it portended. But if Tom's sleep was troubled that night he said nothing of it to his friends.
And he tried to get Major Monkey to go and ask old dog Spot to come to the orchard, instead of waiting there uncertainly for days and days. But Major Monkey would not consent to such a move. He was quite firm. "I don't want to ask old Spot to give me a ride," he explained. "Then how do you ever expect to get one?" Jolly asked him anxiously. "Oh, there's a way!" was the Major's mysterious reply.
As there did not seem to be room enough for him to turn around and run back to Cricket, as he very much wanted to do, he stood still, mewing uncertainly. Billy, in agony of soul, but obedient as ever, lowered the pole carefully, casting reproachful glances over his shoulder. Hilda and the twins stood in fascinated silence, looking at Cricket getting such a beautiful high ride.
For a moment Lucille gazed at her, uncomprehending. "Oh!" she said, uncertainly. "You mean it isn't enough?" "Enough!" Mrs. Brace's rage and disappointment grew, her lowered brows a straight line close down to her eyes. "But I could get more!" Lucille exclaimed, struggling with disgust. "This," she added, with ready invention, "can serve as a part payment, a promise of "
Fearfully searching the room for him, her gaze was held by a figure in the recess of the window at the back of the room. A solid, bulky figure it was, and, though uncertainly outlined in the semi-darkness, she knew it. She took a step nearer, and a cry escaped her. The man was Eliphalet Hopper. He got down from the sill with a motion at once sheepish and stealthy.
The shifting bank of blinding mist hung uncertainly above the shimmering waters less than half a mile ahead, dead ahead for Mascola, off Gregory's starboard quarter. For the Italian it meant safety. To his pursuer it spelled defeat. The Richard was gaining. Gregory measured the distance with a calculating eye. He was going to head the Italian off. "Swing her to port. Catch him on the beam."
"I'll just take a look, anyhow, and see how much there is." He eyed uncertainly the small bag of table salt which he took from the soap-box cupboard nailed to the wall. "There isn't much of it, that's a fact. I guess they'll have to wait." He slammed the door of the improvised cupboard hard upon its leather hinges made of a boot-top, and turned away. "Aw, dog-gone it!" he cried, stopping short.
But now, to think of grubbing away year after year, to get money that I can't use, that I don't want that can't get me what I want! Oh, Lord! the hopeless years ahead! What's the good of them? What's the use? I wish I'd never seen this place or you." His deep voice rose, and fell, and rumbled uncertainly, shaken by feeling.
"Don't know how you've energy to spout Dr. Watts at that rate," said Jim, following his example. "I don't think it is Dr. Watts; I fancy it's Kendall," said Wally, uncertainly. "Not that it matters, anyhow; I'm not likely to meet either of them! Did you ever see anything like the way those little beggars ran?" "Hope I never will again with the thermometer at this height," Jim answered.
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