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"Where'll you get the money to travel?" said Cad. "The Secret Party will give it to us, and we sha'n't need much. We could beg enough, for that matter. We'll sleep under the stars, or under bridges, or archways, or in dark corners of streets. I've done it myself many a time when my father drove me out of doors.
As he was confronted by the fact it nonplussed him somewhat, and he became thoughtful, with lowered head. "Where'll you wait, Duane?" insisted MacNelly, with keen eyes speculating. "I'll wait in front, just inside the door," replied Duane, with an effort. "Why?" demanded the Captain. "Well," began Duane, slowly, "Poggin will get down first and start in. But the others won't be far behind.
Of course, if I didn't know you, little girl, it would be all sorts of fun. But, honest to God, this game beats the world." He bent low and kissed her again. "Where'll we go, then?" she murmured. "That's what I'm tryin' to dope out. I like the sea. It lulls me just like whisky puts a drunkard to sleep. I wish we could get where it's bright and warm and the sun shines all the time.
The girl, standing by the door, heard them break forth an instant later in clamorous whispers. "Where'll we hide? Where'll we hide? There hain't a place to hide!" The girl turned and glanced wildly about the barn. It seemed true. The stock of hay had grown low under Santo's endless munching, and from occasional levyings by passing troopers in grey.
Mother is a little cross today, and she wants to finish knitting your new stockin', so I guess she'll be glad to get rid of us." "Where'll we go?" he asked, shifting on his wooden leg uneasily. "Anywhere. I don't care. There'll be the air-ride there an' the air-ride back, an' that's the main thing with ME. If you say we'll go, Cap'n, I'll run in an' pack a basket of lunch." "How'll we carry it?"
And look at them mantelpieces, pure tombstone marble; and all carved like you see. Yes, ma'am! there's as many as seven of 'em in the house. Where'll you find anything like that, I'd like to know!" "I think the house might be made to look very pleasant, Mr. Whittle," Lydia replied, in a hesitating voice. Wesley Elliot fancied he could detect a slight tremor in its even flow.
Will he answer you?" "I think he will." "Will he though? Where'll you have it sent?" "Oh, nowhere. I'll call here and get it. When shall I call?" "Oh, I don't know I'll send it to you. Where shall I send it? Give me your address; I'll send it to you soon's it comes." But Tracy didn't propose to do this.
Say, mister, ye'd oughter git onter Patsy he's de little kid wid de crutch. He's a corker, he is; reads po'try an' everythin'. Where'll I sign? Oh, I see; in dis'ere square hole right along-side de ole woman's name" spreading his elbows, pen in hand, and affixing "James Finnegan" to the collection of autographs.
"That's the sort, Pat! and av he'll but join us, divil a fear at all for Captain Ussher. Come, my boys, we'll dhrink the gentleman's health, as would be only dacent and proper of us, seeing the great throuble he's at with us." "But where'll ye get the whiskey, Joe?" said Corney; "I don't think mother Mulready 'll be too quick giving you thrust."
He threw the box-door open with the air of a man who is going to exhibit a picture of his own painting. "It's a pity to let him go," said the groom, with a sigh. "Where'll you get another as can touch him when the ground's deep, like it was last March? I've had a many to look after, first and last; but such a kind 'oss to do for in the stable I never see.