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Updated: June 2, 2025
He sprang to his feet, staggered blindly then, quick as a panther, he leaped through the hole in the farther wall, wriggled swiftly into the blind crevices of the inner cave, and was gone. It was Trench who dressed Vic's head that night and shielded him until his strength returned. But it was Bond Saxon who counseled patience. "Don't squeal to the sheriff now," he urged.
You will be far on your way to the winning of a Master's Degree." Vic's eyes widened with a sort of child-like simplicity. He forgot his hat and the chair arms, and Dr. Fenneben noted for the first time that his golden-brown eyes matching his auburn hair were shaded by long black lashes, the kind artists rave about, and arched over with black brows.
They were nearing the goats scattered over the slope that was shadiest, chosen for Vic's comfort and not because of any thought for his charges. Vic himself was sprawled in the shade of a huge rock, and for pastime he was throwing rocks at every ground squirrel that poked its nose out of a hole.
I could only think and my thoughts were horrible. Then, suddenly, there was a terrific crash of sound, and my senses returned. I looked around. It seemed that an instant before I had been standing there in Vic's laboratory, slowly turning the second of the two dials, while the four lights beat down upon my body. And now ... and now I was standing in the open, on another world.
We must give Vic a hand mustn't we? Naturally, I didn't understand Vic's jargon about frequencies and light-rays, for I thought more about football than physics in college, but two things were clear to me. One was that Vic had plunged into some sort of wild experiment, and the other was that Hope had followed him. The rest didn't matter very much. "Perrin! Mr. Butler and Miss Hope are safe.
Then with a comfortable little "Umph-humph," puffing out his pudgy cheeks with tightly tucked-in lips, he let go of Vic's finger and trotted over to the ticket box. The boy let him inside and turned to the window to see the face of the tramp close to it. The man paid for a ticket, then, leaning forward, stared eagerly at the open money box.
And then they all laughed, and some of them applauded. "The really important question is," said Captain or Mr. Smith, "whether you are going to be an officers' or a cadets' lady." I hadn't an idea what he meant, but I remembered Vic's saying that in the lower middle classes they sometimes call a man's wife his "lady."
"Oh, if you want any other ladies, Vic," said Patricia severely, "we shall be delighted to invite them for you." "Me? Other ladies? What could I do with other ladies? Is not my young life one long problem as it is? Ah! Speaking of problems, that reminds me. I have a communication to make to you young lady." Vic's manner suggested a profound and deadly mystery. He led Patricia away from the others.
In mid-channel they were met by De Vic's vessels with the French banner displayed, at which sight the English commander was so wroth that he forthwith ordered a broadside to be poured into the audacious foreigner; swearing with mighty oaths that none but the English flag should be shown in those waters.
I shouldn't like to intrude in family affairs and that sort of thing, you know what I mean." Adrien's grave, quiet eyes were upon Vic's face. "You think we had better not go, then," she said slowly. "Sure thing!" replied Vic, with cheerful optimism. "There is no necessity slight accident no need to make a fuss about it." "But you said it was a serious accident a terrible thing," said Patricia.
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