Word: trailings
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...Riza spent the closing hours of his visit to Istanbul last week with Turkish generals bent over staff maps showing the new strategic motor roads and railways of Turkey and Persia. Ten years ago there was no railway striking east from Ankara toward Persia and nothing but a caravan trail running west from Teheran toward Turkey. There is no through railway yet but the motor road over which His Majesty zipped from Teheran through Tabriz and Erzerum to the Turkish coast at Trebizond is now in prime shape to become an artery of heavy trucking and carry Persian carpets...
...land for the landless and, in general, impose upon them added responsibility for their own welfare. Solemnly the Indian chiefs listened to Commissioner Collier. Some rejoiced at his proposals while others objected bitterly. Reactions: Edward Quick Bear (Rosebud Sioux): The old way leads to the end of the trail. We can lose nothing by trying the new way. Harry Whiteman (Crow): I have been told the Commissioner's heart is in this bill. I also have a heart and my heart is with the welfare of my people. . . . Don't cram this bill down our throats, Mr. Commissioner...
...hard-bitten crew that hung around the Alaskan gold camps a generation ago, none was more celebrated than "Sweet Marie'' Schmidt. She did not pretend to be in the same class with Mollie Walsh, the Wonder Girl of White Pass Trail, who ran a beanery and was sworn to be as morally clean as the snow that fell on her tent. Sweet Marie was a dance hall girl and prettier than most. When she lifted her plaintive voice in song, she could coax more nuggets out of sourdoughs in one night than Deadeye Olga, Yukon Lucy or Moosehide...
...traced Tom Jensen down to Seattle, heard that he had raffled off a nugget bracelet belonging to Sweet Marie on the boat, had cashed the gold dust at the Seattle assay office. His trail led down to San Francisco, across through Texas, faded in New Jersey...
...Sarah of Barchester and Champion Huntsman. Over they went to the house, at Myrtle Grove, where the last burglary was committed. Whiffling mournfully, the leashed hounds were led to a broken window. Champion Sarah suddenly threw up her head and howled. Almost instantly both hounds were scrambling on the trail. Red-faced, hot and excited. Mrs. Sadlier pounded along, her champions nearly pulling her arms out. Up a hill they raced, through copses and hedges and across fields. Dawn was just breaking...