His dry mouth
opened wide.
He screamed!
* * * * *
Halfway up the hill to my house I stopped to look back and all round.
The vast hills in their snowy garments looked down upon the land, upon
the house of Hazen Kinch. Still and silent and inscrutable.
I knew now that a just and brooding God dwelt among these hills.
ON STRIKE
BY ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE
From _The Popular Magazine_
"Furthermore, howadji," ventured Najib, who had not spoken for fully
half an hour, but had been poring over a sheaf of shipment items
scribbled in Arabic, "furthermore, I am yearnful to know who was the
unhappy person the wicked general threatened. Or, of a perhaps, it was
that poor general himself who was bethreatened by his padishah or by
the--"
"What on earth are you babbling about, Najib?" absent-mindedly asked
Logan Kirby, as he looked up from a month-old New York paper which had
arrived by muleteer that day and which the expatriated American had been
reading with pathetic interest.
Now, roused from his perusal by Najib's query, Logan saw that the little
Syrian has ceased wrestling with the shipment items and was peering over
his employer's shoulder, his beady eyes fixed in keen curiosity on the
printed page.
"I enseeched you to tell me, howadji," said Najib, "who has been
threatening that poor general. Or, perchancely, who has been made to
cower himself undertheneath of that fierce general's threatenings.
Pages:
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92