Mary was glad when the evening was over. After hearing the comments of the public, there was something about their way of editing the paper that seemed almost dishonest.
Jack4 was still up when she came home.
"I've used my time better than if I'd gone to the party," he said. "I've studied the map of New York. I'd know just how to go around, if I was there. I am going to study it all the time I'm here."
Mr. Murdoch was better. He had had a comfortable night, and felt able to think of business again.
"Now, my dear," he said to his wife, "I'm ready to take a look at the Eagle. I am glad it was a good number."
"They talked about it all last evening at the sociable," she answered, as she handed him a copy.
He was even cheerful, when he began; and he studied the paper as Jack had studied the map. It was a long time before he said a word.
"My account of the flood is really capital," he said, at last, "and all that about Crofield matters. The report of things in Mertonville is good; that about the logs, the dam, the burglary—a very extraordinary occurrence, by the way—it's a blessing5 they didn't kill Mrs. McNamara. The story is good; funny-column good. But—oh, gracious! Oh, Mary Ogden! Oh my stars! What's this?"
He had begun on the editorials, and he groaned6 and rolled about while he was reading them.
"They'll mob the Eagle!" he said at last. "I must get up! Oh, but this is dreadful! She's pitched into everything there is! I must get up at once!"
Those editorials were a strong tonic7, or else Mr. Murdoch's illness was over. He dressed himself, and walked out into the kitchen. His wife had not heard him say he would get up, but she seemed almost to have expected it.
"It's the way you always do," she said. "I'm never much scared about you. You'll never die till your time comes. I think Mary is over at the office."
"I'm going there, now," he said, excitedly. "If this work goes on, I shall have the whole town about my ears."
He was right. Mary had been at her table promptly8 that morning to make a beginning on the next number; Jack was down in the engine-room; Mr. Black was busy, and Mr. Bones was out, when a party of very red-faced men filed in, went through the front office, and climbed the stairs.
"We'll show him!" said one.
"It'll be a lesson he won't forget!" remarked another, fiercely.
"He'll take it back, or there will be broken bones!" added another; and these spoke9 for the rest. They had sticks, and they tramped heavily as they marched to the "sanctum." The foremost opened the door, without knocking, and his voice was deep, threatening, and husky as he began:
"Now, Mr. Editor—"
"I'm the editor, sir. What do you wish of me?"
"I'm the Editor, sir."
"I'm the Editor, sir."
Mary Ogden stood before him, looking him straight in the face without a quiver.
He was a big man; but, oddly enough, it occurred to him that Mary seemed larger than he was.
"Bob!" exclaimed a harsh whisper behind him, "howld yer tongue! it's only a gir-rl! Don't ye say a har-rd word to the loikes o' her!"
Other whispers and growls10 came from the hall, but the big man stood like a stone post for several seconds.
"You're the editor?" he gasped11. "Is old Murdoch dead,—or has he run away?"
"He's at home, and ill," said Mary. "What is your errand?"
"I keep a decent hotel, sir,—ma'am—madam—I do,—we all do,—it's the Eagle, you know,—and there's no kind of disorder,—and there was never any complaint in Mertonville—"
"Howld on, Bob!" exclaimed the prompter behind him. "You're no good at all; coom along, b'ys. Be civil,—Mike Flaherty will never have it said he brought a shillalah to argy wid a colleen. I'm aff!"
Away he went, stick and all, and the other five followed promptly, leaving Mary Ogden standing12 still in amazement13. She was trying to collect her thoughts when Mr. Black marched in from the other room, followed by the two typesetters; and Mr. Bones tumbled up-stairs, out of breath.
Mary had hardly any explanation to make about what Mr. Bones frantically14 described as "the riot," and she was inclined to laugh at it. Just then Mr. Murdoch himself came to the door.
Jack stopped the engine, exclaiming, "Mr. Murdoch! you here?"
"What is it? What is it?" he exclaimed. "I saw them go out. Did they break anything?"
"Miss Ogden scared 'em off in no time," said Mr. Black.
Mary resigned the editorial chair to Mr. Murdoch. Bones brought in two office chairs; Mr. Black appeared with a very high stool that usually stood before one of his typecases; Mary preferred one of the office chairs, and there she sat a long time, replying to Mr. Murdoch's questions and remarks. She had plenty to tell, after all she had heard at the sociable, and Mr. Murdoch groaned at times, but still he thanked her for her efforts. Meanwhile Mr. Black went to the engine-room with an errand for Jack that sent him over to the other side of the village. Jack looked in the little cracked mirror in the front room as he went out.
"Ink enough; they'll never know me," said Jack. "I'm safe enough. Besides, Mrs. McNamara wasn't robbed at all. She was yelling because she thought robbers were coming."
He loitered along on his way back, with his eyes open and his ears ready to catch any bit of stray news, and paused a moment to peer into a small shoe-shop.
It was only a momentary15 glance, but a hammer ceased tapping upon a lapstone, and a tall man straightened up suddenly and very straight, as he untied16 his leather apron17.
"That's the fellow!" he exclaimed under his breath, but Jack heard him.
"He knew me! He knew me! I can't stay in Mertonville!" thought Jack. "There'll be trouble now."
He started at a run, but it was so early that he attracted little attention.
His return to the Eagle office was so quick that Mr. Black opened his eyes in surprise.
"I've got to see Mr. Murdoch," Jack said hurriedly, and up-stairs he darted18, to break right in upon the conference between the editors.
Jack told his story, and Mr. Murdoch felt it was only another blow added to the many already fallen upon him and his Eagle. "Perhaps you will be better satisfied to leave town," said Mr. Murdoch, uneasily.
"I've enough money to take me to the city, and I'll go. I'm off for New York!" said Jack, eagerly.
"New York?" exclaimed Mr. Murdoch. "That's the thing! Go to the house and get ready. I'll buy you a ticket to Albany, and you can go down on the night boat. They're taking passengers for half a dollar. You mustn't be caught! No doubt they are hunting for you now."
Mr. Murdoch was right. At that very moment the cobbler was in the grocery kept by Deacon Abrams, shouting, "We've got him again, Deacon! He's in town. He works in a paint shop—had paint on his face. Or else he's a blacksmith, or he works in coal, or something black—or dusty. We can run him down now."
While they went for the two others who knew Jack's face, he was putting on his Sunday clothes and packing up. When he came down, there was no ink upon his face, his collar was clean, his hair was brushed, and he was a complete surprise to Mr. Black and the rest.
"I can get a new boy," said Mr. Murdoch, as if he were beginning to recover his spirits; "and I can run the engine myself now I'm well. I can say in the next Eagle that you are gone to the city, and that will help me out of my troubles."
Neither Jack nor Mary quite understood what he meant, and, in fact, they were not thinking about him just then. Mr. Murdoch had said that there was only time to catch the express-train, and they were saying good-by. Mary was crying for the moment, and Jack was telling her what to write to his mother and father and those at home in Crofield.
"It's so sudden, Jack!" said Mary. "But I'm glad you're going. I wish I could go, too."
"I wish you could," said Jack, heartily19; "but I'll write. I'll tell you everything. Good-by, Mr. Murdoch's waiting. Good-by!"
The Eagle editor was indeed waiting, and he was very uneasy. "What a calamity20 it would be," he thought, "to have my own 'devil' arrested for burglary. The Inquirer would enjoy that! It isn't Jack's fault, but I can't bear everything!"
Meanwhile Mary sat at the table and pretended to look among the papers for a new story, but really she was trying to keep from crying over Jack's departure. Mr. Murdoch and Jack had gone to the station.
There was cunning in the plans of the pursuers of Mrs. McNamara's burglar this time. Three of them, each aided by several eager volunteers, dashed around Mertonville, searching every shop in which any sort of face-blacking might be used, and Deacon Abrams himself went to the station with a justice of the peace, a notary-public, a constable21, and the man that kept the village pound.
"He won't get by me," said the deacon wisely, as Mr. Murdoch and a neatly22 dressed young gentleman passed him, arm in arm.
"Good morning, Mr. Murdoch. The Eagle's improving. You did me justice. We're after that same villain23 now. We'll get him this time, too."
"Deacon," said the editor, gripping Jack's arm hard, "I'll mention your courage and public spirit again. Tie him tighter next time."
"We will," said the deacon; "and I've got some new subscribers for you, and a column advertisement."
Mr. Murdoch hurried to the ticket-window, and Jack patiently looked away from Deacon Abrams all the while.
"There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in. Keep your satchel24 with you. I'm going back to the office."
"There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in."
"There," said Mr. Murdoch, "jump right in."
"Good-by," said Jack, pocketing his ticket and entering the car.
He took a seat by the open window, just as the train started.
"Jack's gone, Mary," exclaimed Mr. Murdoch, under his breath, as he re-entered the Eagle office. "Have those men been here again?"
"No," said Mary. "But the chairmen of the two central committees have both been here. Elder Holloway said they would. They will call again."
"What did you say?" the editor asked.
"Why," replied Mary, "I told them you were just getting well."
"So I am," said Mr. Murdoch. "There's a great demand for that number of the Eagle. Forty-six old subscribers have stopped their papers, but a hundred and twenty-seven new ones have come in. I can't guess where this will end. Are you going to the house?"
"I think I'd better," said Mary. "If there's anything more I can do—"
"No, no, no! Don't spoil your visit," said he, hastily. "You've had work enough. Now you must be free to rest a little, and meet your friends."
He would not say he was afraid to have her in the Eagle office, to stir up storms for him. But Mary made no objection—she was very willing to give up the work.
Mr. Murdoch came home in a more hopeful state of mind, but soon went to his room and lay down.
"My dear," he said to his wife, "the paper's going right along; but I'm too much exhausted25 to see anybody. Tell 'em all I'm not well."
Mary was uneasy about Jack, but she need not have worried. The moment the train was in motion, he forgot even Deacon Abrams and Mrs. McNamara in the grand thought that he was actually on his way to the city.
"This train's an express train," he said to himself. "Doesn't she go! I said I'd get there some day, and now I'm really going! Hurrah26 for New York! It's good I learned something about the streets—I'll know what to do when I get there."
He had nine dollars in his pocket for capital, but he knew more or less of several businesses and trades.
In the seat in front of him were two gentlemen, who must have been railway men, he thought, from what they said, and it occurred to Jack that he would like to learn how to build a railway.
The train stopped at last, after a long journey, and a well-dressed man got in, came straight to Jack's seat, took the hitherto empty half of it, and began to talk with the men in front as if he had come on board for the purpose. At first Jack paid little attention, but soon they began to mention places he knew.
"So far, so good," remarked the man at his side; "but we're going to have trouble in getting the right of way through Crofield. We'll have to pay a big price for that hotel if we can't use the street."
"I think not," said Jack, with a smile. "There isn't much hotel left in Crofield, now. It was burned down last Sunday."
"What?" exclaimed one of the gentlemen in front. "Are you from Crofield?"
"I live there," said Jack. "Your engineer was there about the time of the fire. The old bridge is down. I heard him say that your line would cross just below it."
The three gentlemen were all attention, and the one who had not before spoken said:
"I know. Through the old Hammond property."
"It used to belong to Mr. Hammond," replied Jack, "but it belongs to my father now."
"Can you give me a list of the other owners of property?" asked the railway man with some interest.
"I can tell you who owns every acre around Crofield, boundary lines and all," answered Jack. "I was born there. You don't know about the people, though. They'll do almost anything to have the road there. My father will help all he can. He says the place is dead now."
"What's his name?" asked the first speaker, with a notebook and a pencil in his hand.
"His is John Ogden. Mine's Jack Ogden. My father knows every man in the county," replied Jack.
"Ogden," said the gentleman in the forward seat, next the window. "My name's Magruder; we three are directors in the new road. I'm a director in this road. Are you to stay in Albany?"
"I go by the night boat to New York," said Jack, almost proudly.
"Can you stay over a day? We'll entertain you at the Delavan House if you'll give us some information."
"Certainly; I'll be glad to," said Jack; and so when the train stopped at Albany, Jack was talking familiarly enough with the three railway directors.
Mary Ogden had a very clear idea that Mr. Murdoch preferred to make up the next paper without any help from her, and even Mrs. Murdoch was almost glad to know that her young friend was to spend the next week with Mrs. Edwards.
One peculiar27 occurrence of that day had not been reported at the Eagle office, and it had consequences. The Committee of Six, who had visited the sanctum so threateningly, went away beaten, but recounted their experience. They did so in the office of the Mertonville Hotel, and Mike Flaherty had more than a little to say about "that gurril," and about "the black eyes of her," and the plucky28 way in which she had faced them.
One little old gentleman whose eyes were still bright, in spite of his gray hair, stood in the door and listened, with his hand behind his ear.
"Gentlemen," exclaimed this little old man, turning to the men behind him. "Did you hear 'em? I guess I know what we ought to do. Come on into Crozier's with me—all of you. We must give her a testimonial for her pluck."
"Crozier's?" asked a portly, well-dressed man. "Nothing there but dry-goods."
"Come, Jeroliman. You're a banker and you're needed. I dare you to come!" said the little old man, jokingly, leading the way.
Seven of them reached the dress-goods counter of the largest store in Mertonville, and here the little old gentleman bought black silk for a dress.
"You brought your friends, I see, General Smith," said the merchant, laughing. "One of your jokes, eh?"
"No joke at all, Crozier; a testimonial of esteem,"—and three gentlemen helped one another to tell the story.
"I'll make a good reduction, for my share," exclaimed the merchant, as he added up the figures of the bill. "Will that do, General?"
"I'll join in," promptly interposed Mr. Jeroliman, the banker, laughing. "I won't take a dare from General Smith. Come, boys."
They were old enough boys, but they all "chipped in," and General Smith's dare did not cost him much, after all.
Mary Ogden had the map of New York out upon the table that evening, and was examining it, when there came a ring at the door-bell.
"It's a boy from Crozier's with a package," said Mrs. Murdoch; "and Mary, it's for you!"
"For me?" said Mary, in blank astonishment29.
It was indeed addressed to her, and contained a short note:
"The girl who was not afraid of six angry men is requested to accept this silk dress, with the compliments of her admiring friends,
"SEVEN OLD MEN OF MERTONVILLE."
"Oh, but, Mrs. Murdoch," said Mary, in confusion, "I don't know what to say or do. It's very kind of them!—but ought I to take it?"
This testimonial pleased Mr. Murdoch even more than it pleased Mary. He insisted Mary should keep it, and she at last consented.
But not even the new dress made Mary forget to wonder how Jack was faring.
The lightning express made short work of the trip to Albany, and Jack was glad of it, for he had not had any dinner. His new acquaintances invited him to accompany them to the Delavan House.
As they left the station, Mr. Magruder took from his pocket a small pamphlet.
"Humph!" he said. "Guide-book to the New York City and Hudson River. I had forgotten that I had it. Don't you want it, Ogden? It'll be something to read on the boat."
"Won't you keep it?" asked Jack, hesitating.
"Oh, no," said Mr. Magruder. "I was going to throw it away."
So Jack put the book into his pocket. It was a short walk to the Delavan House, but it was through more bustle30 and business, considering how quiet everybody was, Jack thought, than he ever saw before. He went with the rest to the hotel office, and heard Mr. Magruder give directions about Jack's room and bill.
"He's going to pay for me for one day," Jack said to himself, "and until the evening boat goes to-morrow."
"Ogden," said Mr. Magruder, "I can't ask you to dine with us. It's a private party—have your dinner, and then wait for me here."
"All right," said Jack, and then he stood still and tried to think what to do.
"I must go to my room, now, and leave my satchel there," he said to himself. "I don't want anybody to know I never was in a big hotel before."
He managed to get to his room without making a single blunder, but the moment he closed the door he felt awed31 and put down.
"It's the finest room I was ever in in all my life!" he exclaimed. "They must have made a mistake. Perhaps I'll have a bedroom like this in my own house some day."
Jack made himself look as neat as if he had come out of a bandbox, before he went down-stairs.
The dining-room was easily found, and he was shown to a seat at one of the tables, and a bill of fare was handed him; but that was only one more puzzle.
"I don't know what some of these are," he said to himself. "I'll try things I couldn't get in Crofield. I'll begin on those clams32 with little necks."
So the waiter set before him a plate of six raw clams.
That was a good beginning; for every one of them seemed to speak to him of the salt ocean.
After that he went farther down the bill of fare and selected such dishes as, he said, "nobody ever saw in Crofield."
It was a grand dinner, and Jack was almost afraid he had been too long over it.
He went out to the office and looked around, and asked the clerk if Mr. Magruder had been inquiring for him.
"Not yet, Mr. Ogden," said the clerk. "He is not yet through dinner. Did you find your room all right?"
"All right," said Jack. "I'll sit down and wait for Mr. Magruder."
It was an hour before the railway gentlemen returned. There were twice as many of them now, however, and Mr. Magruder remarked:
"Come, Ogden, we won't detain you long. After that you can do what you like. Thank you very much, too."
Jack followed them into a private sitting-room33, which seemed to him so richly furnished that he really wished it had been plainer; but he found the men very straightforward34 about their business.
They all sat down around the table in the middle of the room.
"We'll finish Ogden first, and let him go," said Mr. Magruder, laughing. "Ogden, here's a map of Crofield and all the country from there to Mertonville. I want to ask some questions."
He knew what to ask, too; but Jack's first remark was not an answer.
"Your map's all wrong," said he. "There isn't sand and gravel35 in that hill across the Cocahutchie, beyond the bridge."
"Your map's all wrong," said Jack.
"Your map's all wrong," said Jack.
"What is there, then?" asked a gentleman, who seemed to be one of the civil engineers, pettishly36. "I say it's earth and gravel, mainly."
"Clear granite37," said Jack. "Go down stream a little and you'll see."
"All right," exclaimed Mr. Magruder; "it will be costly38 cutting it, but we shall want the stone. Go ahead now. You're just the man we needed."
Jack thought so before they got through, for he had to tell all there was to tell about the country, away down to Link's bridge.
"Look here," said one of them, quizzically. "Ogden, have you lived all your life in every house in Crofield and in Mertonville and everywhere? You know even the melon-patches and hen-roosts!"
"Well, I know some of 'em," said Jack, coloring and trying to join in the general laugh. "I wouldn't talk so much, but Mr. Magruder asked me to stay over and tell what you didn't know."
Then the laughter broke out again, and it was not at Jack's expense.
They had learned all they expected from him, however, and Mr. Magruder thanked him very heartily.
"I hope you'll have a good time to-morrow," he said. "Look at the city. I'll see that you have a ticket ready for the boat."
"I didn't expect—" began Jack.
"Nonsense, Ogden," said Mr. Magruder. "We owe you a great deal, my boy. I wouldn't have missed knowing about that granite ledge39. It's worth something to us. The ticket will be handed you by the clerk. Good-evening, Jack Ogden. I hope I'll see you again, some day."
"I hope so," said Jack. "Good-evening, sir. Good-evening, gentlemen."
Out he walked, and as the door closed behind him the engineer remarked:
"He ought to be a railway contractor40. Brightest young fellow I've seen in a long time."
Jack felt strange. The old, grown-up feeling seemed to have been questioned out of him, by those keen, peremptory41, clear-headed business men, and he appeared to himself to be a very small, green, poor, uneducated boy, who hardly knew where he was going next, or what he was going to do when he got there. "I don't know about that either," he said to himself, when he reached the office. "I know I'm going to bed, next, and I believe that I'll go to sleep when I get there!"
Weary, very weary, and almost blue, in spite of everything, was Jack Ogden that night, when he crept into bed.
"'Tisn't like that old cot in the Eagle office," he thought. "I'm glad it isn't to be paid for out of my nine dollars."
Jack was tired all over, and in a few minutes he was sound asleep.
He had gone to bed quite early, and he awoke with the first sunshine that came pouring into his room.
"It isn't time to get up," he said. "It'll be ever so long before breakfast, but I can't stay here in bed."
As he put on his coat something swung against his side, and he said:
"There! I'd forgotten that pamphlet. I'll see what's in it."
The excitement of getting to the Delavan House, and the dinner and the talk afterward42, had driven the pamphlet out of his mind until then, but he opened it eagerly.
"Good!" he said, as he turned the leaves. "Maps and pictures, all the way down. Everything about the Hudson. Pictures of all the places worth seeing in New York. Tells all about them. Where to go when you get there. Just what I wanted!"
Down he sat, and he came near forgetting his breakfast, so intensely was he absorbed by that guide-book. He shut it up, at last, however, remarking: "I'll have breakfast, and then I'll go out and see Albany. It's all I've got to do till the boat leaves this evening. First city I ever saw." He ate with all the more satisfaction because he knew that he was not eating up any part of his nine dollars, and it did not seem like so much money as it would have seemed in Crofield. He was in no haste, for he had no idea where to go, and did not mean to tell anybody how ignorant he was. He walked out of the Delavan House, and strolled away to the right. Even the poorer buildings were far better than anything in Crofield or Mertonville, and he soon had a bit of a surprise. He reached a corner where a very broad street opened, at the right, and went up a steep hill. It was not a very long street, and it ended at the crest43 of the hill, where there were some trees, and above them towered what seemed to be a magnificent palace of a building.
"I'll go and see that," said Jack. "I'll know what it is when I see the sign,—or I'll ask somebody."
His interest in that piece of architecture grew as he walked on up the hill; and he was a little warm and out of breath when he reached the street corner, at the top. Upon the corner, with his hands folded behind him and his hat pushed back on his head, stood a well-dressed man, somewhat above middle height, heavily built and portly, who seemed to be gazing at the same object.
"Mister," said Jack, "will you please tell me what that building is?"
"Certainly," replied the gentleman, turning to him with a bow and a smile. "That's the New York State Miracle; one of the wonders of the world."
"The State Miracle?" said Jack.
"What's your name?" asked the gentleman, with another bow and smile.
"Ogden—Jack Ogden."
"Yes, Jack Ogden; thank you. My name's 'Guvner.' That's a miracle. It can never be finished. There's magic in it. Do you know what that is?"
"That's one of the things I don't know, Mr. Guvner," said Jack.
"I don't know what it is either," smiled Mr. Guvner. "When they built it they put in twenty tons of pure, solid gold, my lad. Didn't you ever hear of it? Where do you live when you're at home?"
"My home's in Crofield," said Jack, not aware of a group of gentlemen and ladies who were standing still, a few yards away, looking at them. "I'm on my way to New York, but I wanted to see Albany."
Mr. Guvner put a large hand on his shoulder, and smiled in his face.
"Jack, my son," he said, "go up and look all over the State Miracle. Many other States have other similar miracles. Don't stay in it too long, though."
"Is it unhealthy?" asked Jack, with a smile.
The portly gentleman was smiling also.
"No, no; not unhealthy, my boy; but they persuade some men to stay there a long time, and they're never the same men again. Come out as soon as you've had a good view of it."
"I'll take a look at it any way," said Jack, turning away. "Thank you, Mr. Guvner. I'll see the Miracle."
He had gone but a few paces, and the others were stepping forward, when he was called by Mr. Guvner.
"Jack, come back a moment!"
"What is it, Mr. Guvner?" asked Jack.
"I'm almost sorry you're going to the city. It's as bad as the Capitol itself. You'll never be the same man again. Don't get to be the wrong kind of man."
"I'll remember, Mr. Guvner," said Jack, and he walked away again; but as he did so he heard a lady laughing, and a solemn-faced gentlemen saying:
"Good morning, Gov-er-nor. A very fine morning?"
"I declare!" exclaimed Jack, with almost a shiver. "I've been talking with the Governor of the State himself, and I'm going to see the Capitol. I couldn't have done that in Crofield. And I'll be in New York City to-morrow!"
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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promptly
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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growls
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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clams
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| n.蛤；蚌，蛤( clam的名词复数 )v.（在沙滩上）挖蛤( clam的第三人称单数 ) | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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pettishly
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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contractor
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| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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