human
Did I--George, was it pretty bad last night? God she--she--that Müller girl--what a wonderful woman she is. George, do you suppose-- Fenn caught Grant's eyes wandering toward them. The name of Margaret Müller had reached his ears. But Fenn went on, lowering his voice:
gpt
I honestly believe she could, if any one could. Fenn put his lean, tapering hand upon Brotherton's broad fat paw, and smiled a quaint, appreciative smile, frank and gentle. It was one of those smiles that carried agreement with what had been said, and with everything that might be said. Brotherton took up the hallelujah chorus for Margaret with:
human
Fine girl--bright, keen--well say, did you know she's buying the books here of me for the chautauqua course and is trying for a degree--something in her head besides hairpins--well, say!
gpt
Well, say--observe me the prize idiot! Get the blue ribbon and pin it on your Uncle George. Look here at me overlooking the main bet. Well, say, Henry--here are the specifications of one large juicy plan. Funeral to-morrow--old man Mauling; obliging party to die. Uncle George and the angel choir to officiate with Uncle George doubling in brass as pall-bearer. The new Mrs. Sands, our bell-voiced contralto, is sick: also obliging party to be sick. Need new contralto: Müller girl has voice like morning star, or stars, as the case may be.
human
That's the idea, Henry, that finally wormed its way into my master mind, cried Brotherton, laughing his big laugh.
gpt
That's what I said before I spoke. You are to drive into Prospect Township this evening--Hey, Grant, called Brotherton to the boy on the bench in the Amen corner,
human
Does that pretty school ma'am board with you people? And when Grant shook his head, Brotherton went on:
gpt
Yes--she's moved across the district I remember now. Well, anyway, Henry, you're to drive into Prospect Township this evening and produce one large, luscious brunette contralto for choir practice at General Nesbit's piano at eight o'clock sharp. He stood facing Fenn whose eyes were glowing. The lurking devil seemed to slink away from him. Brotherton, seeing the change, again burst into his laugh and bringing Fenn to the front of the store roared:
human
Well, say--Hennery--are there any flies on your Uncle George's scheme?
gpt
Now get out of here--the both of you: you're spiling trade. And say, called Brotherton to Fenn,