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Updated: May 17, 2025
He said he had never been really scared in an automobile before, and he used to look at me with a ready-to-jump expression, as though I were a baby playing with a gun. You see, I had graduated on Lewis Wentz's steamer and a twenty-mile clip didn't feaze me any, though there were times when I'd forget which things to pull, and this always seemed to rattle his little nerves.
The banker listened with equanimity as he sat on the back of his neck with his fingers interlaced across his smart bottle-green waistcoat. Wentz's lack of enthusiasm only increased Toomey's eagerness. He leaned forward and declared with all vehemence: "Look at the territory I could cover, if I had an automobile!
Can't see it, Jap." Disappointment as well as Wentz's words stung Toomey more deeply than he had been touched for a long time. A rush of blood dyed his sallow face as he grabbed his hat and started for the door. Opening it partly, he turned and flung a retort over his shoulder. "I'll tell you what I think, Vermin!" Mr. Wentz winced.
She was curiously aware of every sound the ticking of the flat clock against the wall, the scratching of Wentz's pen, the steps of passersby on the sidewalk as she waited for what seemed an unconscionable time for the cashier to speak. Panic was in his eyes when he finally raised them from the check. He stood uncertainly for a moment, then turned and walked quickly to the president's desk.
There had been no eagerness or anxiety to suggest it, yet she had the notion strongly that the bank needed the money. Perhaps, she reasoned swiftly, the suspicion was born merely of her now habitual distrust of motives; nevertheless, it was there, to become a fixed opinion. While she seemed to deliberate, Mr. Wentz's thoughts were of a different nature.
Jim saw the change, and, knowing what it signified, took Joe's arm as he gently urged him away. The teamster's shrill voice could be heard until they entered the fur-trader's cabin. An old man with long, white hair flowing from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, sat near the door holding one of Mrs. Wentz's children on his knee.
Hiram Butefish merely echoed the opinion of the community when he made the assertion, upon seeing Kate turn the corner by the Prouty House and ride down the main street the day following the delivery of Mr. Wentz's summons. Suffering had made Kate acutely sensitive and she was quick to feel the atmosphere of hostility.
"It's quite evident the business men of Prouty agree with him, since none of them will trust her." "That doesn't alter my opinion." Mr. Pantin's reply was calm. "It's the person behind a loan that counts, anyway not the security. If I had been in Wentz's place when she said she could handle those sheep and meet the obligation when due, I should have believed her." Again Mr.
Max Rutter, the Lawrenceville captain, with the directness that usually characterizes such officers, called this fact to Wentz's attention. Wentz, who probably felt naturally his pride of football fame, became quite angry at Rutter's remark that he was being outplayed. He took off his nose-guard, threw it on the ground and left the field. Rutter moved me over to the first team in Wentz's place.
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