Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 19, 2025
Then, almost with one motion he unrolled the newspaper, pointed to a paragraph, and handed it to the officer. Major Saxton was still reading when a drunken ruffian clambered up the bank behind them and attempted to pass through the lines. The column began to move forward. Mr. Sherman slid down the bank with his boy into the grove beside Stephen. Suddenly there was a struggle.
We had just got nicely settled, men well tented, with good floors, and in high spirits, officers at out-stations all happy, Mrs. coming to stay with her husband, we at head-quarters just in order, house cleaned, moss-garlands up, camellias and jessamines in the tin wash-basins, baby in bliss; our usual run of visitors had just set in, two Beaufort captains and a surgeon had just risen from a late dinner after a flag of truce, General Saxton and his wife had driven away but an hour or two before, we were all sitting about busy, with a great fire blazing, Mrs.
Boltwood put in. "Hope you lose that dreadful red-headed person." "No, I can't, Mr. Boltwood. When Mr. Saxton turned on me, I swore I'd take Pinky clear through to Blewett Pass ... though not to Seattle, by golly!" "Foolish oaths should be broken," Claire platitudinized.
Stephen smiled to himself when it came over him that this gentleman was none other than that Mr. William T. Sherman he had met in the street car the day before. Somehow Stephen was fascinated by the decision and energy of Mr. Sherman's slightest movements. He gave Major Saxton a salute, quick and genial.
“I am sorry for the loss of Lieutenant Saxton,” the captain said, when Will had reported the manner in which they had been captured. “He was a good officer, and in this case he was not to blame. With our telescopes we could only see a few men on board the Algerine, and they must have kept up the deception till the last.
Their coloring suited me, all but the legs, which were clad in a lively scarlet, as intolerable to my eyes as if I had been a turkey. I saw them mustered; General Saxton talked to them a little, in his direct, manly way; they gave close attention, though their faces looked impenetrable. Then I conversed with some of them.
Up the road, a blaring horn, great lights growing momently more dazzling, a roar, a rush, the halting car, and out of its blurred bulk, a trim figure darting Jeff Saxton home and the people she loved, and the ways and days she knew best of all. He had shouted only "Is Miss " before she had rushed to him, into the comfort of his arms, and kissed him.
What he had been muttering was: "Rotten shame me so scared of folks' clothes that I don't stand up to 'em and keep 'em from smothering Claire. Lord, it would be awful if she settled down to being a Mrs. Jeff Saxton. Got to save her not for myself for her." It may have been Aunt Harriet, it may have been Milt's resolution, but Mrs.
Fort Benton was reached on September 1st There they remained until the twelfth of the month when Lieutenant Saxton, leading a similar party eastward from Vancouver, arrived. Thus a survey from the Mississippi to the Pacific had been completed. On the journey the entire party had been divided into small groups, who conducted surveys and explorations in various directions.
Such verbiage on motor trips invariably results in the mysterious finding of the corpse of a strange man, well dressed, hidden beside the road. Claire and her father mumbled, "Good farmhouse brick," or "Nice view," and smiled, and were for miles as silent as the companionable sky. She thought of the people she knew, especially of Jeff Saxton.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking