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Updated: May 27, 2025
Then, by a mighty effort, just as the deafening cheering started, he led the race around the harbor. "Here, you Jack Benson!" gasped the yard's owner. "You come in here mighty quick! Give an account of yourself. What was wrong below?" "Wrong?" hailed back Benson, standing in the bow of the shore boat as it made for shore. "What were you doing down below, all this time?" demanded Mr. Farnum.
With a shrug he was moving off, when he suddenly made a hurried gesture, directing the attention of the expert to a fact for which neither of them was prepared. The opening which led into the antechamber, and which was the sole means of communication with the rest of the house, was slowly closing. From a yard's breadth it became a foot; from a foot it became an inch; from an inch
Here is Mis' Robbins' gate. I used to see her flowers. Her yard's full of them, isn't it?" "Oh, yes!" replied Janice, fighting her inclination to burst into tears. "Oh, yes, dear! beautiful flowers." She pressed the hand tightly. "I can smell 'em," said the child, snuffing with her nose like a dog. "And now here is the shade of our big trees.
"Well, Sam," he replied, his words dragging slowly along, "the yard's always full, an' men a-waitin'. You'd have to give bonds for good behavior, an' honesty, an' " "Never mind the rest, Mr. Briggs," said the ex-convict, shrinking an inch or two in stature. "I didn't know about that, indeed I didn't, or I " "Well, you needn't be a-Mr.-Briggs-in' me, anyhow," said the brakeman.
For lack of apparatus, I confine myself to suspicions. To go underground to a yard's depth and farther if my tube had allowed it is on the part of the Flesh fly's grub a vagary provoked by unkind experiment: never would it bury itself so low down, if left to its own wisdom.
Turning quickly, I perceived, at about a yard's distance, a reptile of that beautiful species the rattle-snake. He ceased moving: I jumped up, and struck at his head with a stick, but missed the blow. He instantly coiled and rattled. I now retreated beyond the range of his spring.
An extraordinary object a winged object, apparently without a tail, a whirring bunch of loose gray feathers, a creature resembling no known fowl had been put up by one of the dogs, and it had flown direct at Ogilvie's head. It passed him at about half a yard's distance. "What in all the world is that?" he cried, jumping round to have a look at it.
That night the yard's owner made announcement of a reward of one thousand dollars for Josh Owen's capture dead or alive. "That fellow has proved himself more dangerous than an ordinary lunatic, and he knows too much about submarine boats for my comfort. He's even capable, some dark night, of putting a mine under the 'Pollard' big enough to destroy her at anchorage."
The prisoner was led to the captain's cabin, and there examined through the medium of the interpreter. He refused to answer any questions until, by the captain's orders, he was taken on deck again and a noose placed round his neck, and the interpreter told him that, unless he spoke, he was to be hauled up to the yard's arm. The man was still silent.
Over on the "Farnum" the yard's owner and Eph Somers watched wonderingly. They understood, well enough, that the new, trim-looking gunboat was in trouble, but they did not how that Jack Benson was held at fault. Down between decks the engines of the "Hudson" were toiling hard to run the craft off out of the sand. Then the machinery stopped. An engineer officer came up from below. He and Mr.
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