Word: darked
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...Wodehouse. Leave It to Psmith, P. G. Wodehouse. No Other Tiger, A. E. W. Mason. The Crook's Shadow, J. Jefferson Farjeon. The Portrait Invisible, Joseph Gollomb. 2 L. O., Walter S. Masterman. The Shot on the Downs, Victor L. Whitechurch. Tracks in the Snow, Lord Charnwood. The Old Dark House, J. B. Priestly. The Greene Murder Case, S. S. Van Dine...
...Senior, are asked to keep a sharp lookout for any person resembling him or acting in a conspicuous manner. Neff's description follows: Age 21. Height 5 ft. 10 in. Weight 165. Medium brown hair, out short. Bluish-grey eyes. Believed to be wearing a single-breasted suit of dark brown or grayish mixture. He is known to have been wearing a hat but no overcoat. No luggage. Those having any information are asked to communicate by phone or wire to J. R. Hamlen, Lehman Hall, Cambridge, Telephone, University...
...bank, street cars clanging across cities are too slow for man's impatience. He must blast tunnels under peaceful rivers, bore subways through the solid earth that his transit may be measured in swift seconds. Men willingly give up sunshine and fresh air to work in the dark, dank underground; they will not willingly give up their lives. Last week Thomas J. Curtis, International President of the Tunnel and Subway Constructors Union, General Manager of the Building and Allied Trades Compensation Bureau, told the Welfare Council of Manhattan of the dangers run by subway workers...
...came slithering toward him. George Hicks flattened himself face downward. The boa slithered over him, stopped. Ten openings opened. Hundreds of humans wriggled into the openings, became corpuscles of the boa. It hissed a little, rolled on over the body of George Hicks, and into a dark hole. George Hicks rose, unhurt, and made for the platform. Again a boa with two small red eyes came toward him, too fast. Again George Hicks salaamed snugly against the dirty groove between two rails. The second, and then a third beast swiftly passed over him, stopped, filled itself with people, slithered away...
...frail wind moved under dark skies, ruffling the water of Oyster Bay, L. I., and filling the sails of some six-metre boats owned by rich men. Slowly the little fleet beat toward a buoy close to a sandy bluff, rounded the buoy, sailed back to the Seawanhaka Club where at sunset a cannon went off. The two boats in the lead-the Lanai, owned by Harry L. Maxwell, and the Saleema, owned by H. B. Plant-were picked to compete in the six-metre races to be held in European waters this summer...