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Updated: April 30, 2025
"You look too old to be alive," he answered; "fifty years older than I do, certainly! Mrs. Mehitable Whalen, are you my wife or my very great grandmamma?" "But where's Nate Pollard?" Aunt Vi asked. "I told him to come early to rehearse." "He said he'd be here in half an hour," said Jimmy. "He's off playing."
"Wait a minute," he continued, as his visitor prepared to leave. "Go into the other room" he pointed. "Glue your ear to the door first, then to the wall, and tell me if you can hear anything any word I say." Barry did as he was bidden. Presently Byng spoke in a tone rather louder than in ordinary conversation to an imaginary interlocutor for some minutes. Then Barry Whalen came back into the room.
"Why Edith Whalen said he was going to arrested within twenty-four hours!" "Lots she knows about it! But if that detective had his way, he might be. I can't imagine anyone paying a man to be so stupid. We girls have told him again and again that Phil had nothing to do with it." "Has Phil been asked up to the Manor since that happened?" asked Bob. "No, I don't think so.
"There's one girl who does it, and she's no friend of Bet's," laughed Joy. "Oh, that Edith Whalen! She's always horrid, I wish she wouldn't call me anything. I get angry so angry that I " "Ssh! I'll tell you what she does," whispered Joy. "She scratches!" "I really don't, but I'd like to."
If they could have seen her hiding away in one of the lower grade rooms where she could see the only unlocked door of the building they would have wondered what she was up to. On the third afternoon she was rewarded. Just as she was about to give up and go home, she saw a figure dart around the building and come in the door. It was Edith Whalen.
"You had better go in," he said. "We ought to intervene. If you don't, I will. Listen...." It was a strange sound to hear in this heart of civilization. It belonged to the barbaric places of the earth, where there was no law, where every pioneer was his own cadi. With set face Barry Whalen entered the room.
The hand that dipped in the same dish, as it were, has handed out misfortune to us by the bucketful. We've been carted in the house of a friend." The group, all standing, leaned over, as Barry Whalen showed them the papers, one by one, then passed them round for examination. "It's deadly," said Fleming. "Men have had their throats cut or been hanged for less. I wouldn't mind a hand in it myself."
Blasphemous Barry Whalen? Well, you can want it with a little less blither and a little more manners."
Two minutes later Whalen made a sudden leap forward, seizing the suspected young man by the coat collar. "Stand by, till I shake ye down!" roared the policeman, thrashing the thief about until the slim one's teeth chattered. A small morocco purse fell to the sidewalk. "Why, that's mine!" cried a woman. "I know it, ma'am. I saw this spalpeen take it from your pocket," nodded Policeman Whalen.
Beau chevalier!" was all he said, and impulsive Barry Whalen went away blinking; for hard as iron as he was physically, and a fighter of courage, his temperament got into his eyes or at his lips very easily. Stafford looked after him admiringly. "Lucky the man who has such a friend," he said aloud "Sans peur et sans reproche!
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