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Updated: May 4, 2025
To "have a heart" was like "heaping coals of fire" on people's heads, in minister's language, he supposed. And he wasn't so fond of that. But anyway he gave in. "All right," he agreed, "come 'n, where'll we play?" "Here," said Fatty, "this big rock'll be home-plate, and that one over there by the chestnut tree 'first. An' we'll choose up sides first choosin'!"
I been storin' up my kick! And now it's growed to a humdinger! Y've whaled this here boy, and tied up this here girl! His face is cut, and his back is black, and raw, and bleedin'! Wal, it's Tom Barber's turn t' git a hidin'! the worst hidin' a polecat ever did git! So! Where'll y' take it? In this house, 'r outside?"
"By the Lord, I don' know where you two girls got these loose ways o' think-in' an' acting mebbe he won't take you, an' then where'll you be? You won't git under my roof again when you've once left it, you can make up your mind to that!" "If you have any doubts about Ivory's being willing to take me, you'd better drive along behind me and listen while I ask him."
Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck.
My advice is to get out of here as soon as possible." "Where'll we go?" asked Mr. Perry. "We'll decide that after we get away. If you want to keep your prisoner, don't stay here." "Dad's got his automatic yet," Cub reminded with youthful confidence in a chamber full of shells. "And I've got my slingshot," chimed in Bud. "Tee-hee," laughed Hal.
"Bring her up to the wind," shouted Tarboe to Bissonnette. The mainsail closed up several points, the Ninety-Nine slackened her pace and edged in closer to the land. "Now, my girl," said Tarboe, "this is how it stands. If we fight, there's someone sure to be hurt, and if I'm hurt, where'll you be?" Bissonnette interposed. "We've got nothing contraband. The gold is ours."
If he ain't marrid where'll he go f'r another kind iv throuble? An' where'll he find people to support? An unmarrid man don't get along in pollytics because he don't need th' money. Whin he's in th' middle iv a prim'ry, with maybe twinty or thirty iv th' opposite party on top iv him, thinks he to himsilf: 'What's th' good iv fightin' f'r a job?
The man at the other end of the wire ignored the questions. "Where'll Wharton be for the next twenty minutes?" "If I tell you," parried Rumson, "will you bring the letter at once?" The voice exclaimed indignantly: "Bring nothing! I'll send it by district messenger. You're wasting time trying to reach me. It's the letter you want.
Greg insisted. "For one thing," objected Tom Reade quizzically, "there are no leaves at this time of the year." "What do we want leaves for?" queried Greg. "To lay on the roof, like shingles." "Bosh!" snapped Holmes. "We'd build our camp of wood." "Well, where'll we get the wood?" came from Dave. "We can carry it from home," proposed Greg. "No lumber pile in our yard. Is there in yours?"
"I know enough to ruin him," he whispered, and something in his look or tone convinced François that he believed what he said. "Yes, and I'm going to do it. Others have got the money and'll back me I've got the information. We shall ruin him, Mr. G-Gaspard, we shall drive him from the country, and where'll your precious party, and your precious schemes, and your precious meetings be then?
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