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Updated: April 30, 2025
"I'm going to leave you, Pete," he said, as he put on his collar. "Where're you going?" "I've got to get up to the city to make the ten o'clock train. I'm going up to Ledyard to get the cribbing. Be back in a couple of days." He threw his shaving kit into his grip, put on his overcoat, said good-night, and went out.
They'd wake up to-morrow morning under the impression that they'd had the night of their lives." The members of the mess began to collect round the fireplace with the funereal expressions customary whenever a mess-dinner is impending. "Which of the What Ho's are coming?" "Where're they going to sit?" "Who asked them?" "Why?" "Are drinks going down to the mess?"
Go on over and strike her for a job; she needs men, I know, by the way she looked." "No, I guess I'll go on with you till our roads fork. But I was kind of thinkin' I'd like to stay around Glendora a while." Taterleg sighed as he seemed to relinquish the thought of it, tried the gate to see that it was latched, turned his horse about. "Well, where're we headin' for now?"
Though they did not know it then, they had fought the last battle of the war for the depleted regiments of cavalry of the Army of the Tennessee. The aftertaste of Selma had been bitter, but the small, sharp flurry at the Godwin house left them no longer feeling so bitter. "Where're we goin'?" Boyd pushed his horse up beside Croaker as they swung on through the dark. "Plantersville, I guess."
'Here, Nora! he said, speaking with the raw anger of a man with a new-born grievance, 'run this home for me. I'm going over to Hanbridge with Mr. Dain. 'Very well, she agreed with soothing calmness, and taking the reins she climbed up to the high driving-seat. 'And I say, Nora Wo-back! he flamed out passionately to the impatient cob, 'where're your manners, you idiot?
Several small bodies of armed men passed them, and once they caught a scrap of conversation about "Yank bridge burners." The hunt was on. "Halt there!" The command came from behind. They whipped about and found themselves facing a raised rifle. The man was a civilian, tall and lanky. He waved the rifle from one to the other. "Where're you going?" he demanded. "Chattanooga," answered Tom.
When I git down on my knees to-night, I'll pray harder than I ever prayed in my life that you'll come to yo' senses an' see what a laughing-stock that gal has made of you." "Then I wish I hadn't told you." "Well, I'd have knowed it anyhow it's burstin' out of you. Where're you goin' now? The time's gittin' on toward dinner." "For my axe. I want to cut a little timber."
Gibney sprang upon him tigerishly, placed a horny, tobacco-smelling palm across Scraggs's mouth and effectively smothered all further sound. "American steamer Yankee Prince," he bawled like a veritable Bull of Bashan, "of Boston, Hong Kong to Frisco with a general cargo of sandal wood, rice, an' silk. Where're we at?" "Just outside the Gate. Half a mile south o' the Cliff House."
"In fact, tomorrow's a local election day. Parlay that up on top of all the fracas fans gravitating into town and you'll have a wingding the likes of nothing you've seen before." "Well yessir," Max begrudged. "Where're we going now, captain?" "To the airport. Come along."
"That's Good Heart Butte, and the Wakon comes in just around it. It's ten to one we'll find them right there. Where're you going, Cullen?" he called to a trooper who came cantering back past the flank of the column. "To hurry up the pack-train, sir. It's the major's orders," sung out the trooper, only momentarily checking his horse.
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