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In August, 1770, he met many of his former officers at Captain Weedon's in Fredericksburg, and after they had dined and had talked over old times, they discussed the subject of their claims until sunset, and it was decided that Washington should personally make a long and dangerous trip to the western region.
It gives them insight. When they remember the road they've travelled, they're not going to make the mistakes we've made." "Oh, yes, they are," said Choate. "Pardon me. There are going to be robbers and pirates and Napoleons and get-rich-quicks born for quite a while yet. And they're not going to be born in my class alone nor Weedon's."
The family was on the porch, taking the cool of the afternoon, when White Fang arrived. He came in among them, panting, covered with dust. "Weedon's back," Weedon's mother announced. The children welcomed White Fang with glad cries and ran to meet him. He avoided them and passed down the porch, but they cornered him against a rocking-chair and the railing. He growled and tried to push by them.
This is the first time I have heard his honourable name. Weedon's interpreter." "He has the fruit store on Mill Street." "Ah! Amabel, do you know what this interview has done for me? It's given me a perfectly overwhelming desire to speak the tongues." "Foreign languages, Jeff?" "Any language that will help me beat Weedie at his game, or give me a look at the cards old Madame Beattie holds.
You might have to meet it to have done with it. But now at Weedon's office door he paused a moment, hearing a voice, the little man's own, slightly declamatory, even in private, and went in. And he wished he had not gone, for Miss Amabel sat at the table, signing papers, and he instantly guessed the signatures were not in the pursuance of her business but to the advantage of Weedon Moore.
"Your old crony must have mentioned the night we ran away with Weedon Moore's automobile." "Oh, yes," said Lydia. Her eyes were eloquent now. "She told me." "Did she tell you what she said to Weedon's crowd, to turn them round like a flock of sheep and bring them over to us?" "Oh, yes, she told me." "What was it?" But Lydia again looked obstinate, though she ventured a little plea of her own.
He had ceased from his growling and stood, head up, looking into their faces. His throat worked spasmodically, but made no sound, while he struggled with all his body, convulsed with the effort to rid himself of the incommunicable something that strained for utterance. "I hope he is not going mad," said Weedon's mother.
"A wolf is a wolf!" commented Judge Scott. "There is no trusting one." "But he is not all wolf," interposed Beth, standing for her brother in his absence. "You have only Weedon's opinion for that," rejoined the judge. "He merely surmises that there is some strain of dog in White Fang; but as he will tell you himself, he knows nothing about it. As for his appearance "
She gave another order, whereupon the man who had cranked the machine took his place in it, and the crowd parted for them to pass. Jeffrey was amused and dashed. He couldn't leave her, nor could they sail away in Weedon's car. He put a hand on her arm. "See here, Madame Beattie," said he, "we can't do this. We must get out at the gate, at least."
"Colonel Reed, order three battalions of Weedon's and Knowlton's rangers to move along under cover of the woods, and endeavour to get in the rear of their main party," directed the commander-in-chief after a moment's discussion with Generals Greene and Putnam. "As you know the ground, guide them yourself." "Plague take his luck!" growled Brereton. "Ha, ha!" laughed Tilghman, jeeringly.
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