The Big Six

The Big Six

Arthur Ransome

Language: English

Pages: 368

ISBN: 0224606395

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Minor edge and corner wear. Nice copy. Clean copy, no marks or writing.

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Junie B. Jones Smells Something Fishy (Junie B. Jones, Book 12)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glories, and, as Admiral of the Teasel, had had a share in the adventures of the spring. The only passers by who did not have a friendly word for the Death and Glories were a couple of larger boys who strolled along the staithe, stood for a moment in front of Mrs. Barrable’s easel so that she had to stop her painting till they moved on, and raised their voices so that Bill and Pete, busy on the cabin-top, could not help hearing them. “Interfering young pups,” said one of the two larger boys.

at his note-book and sucking the end of his pencil. Everybody seemed to be talking at once but, as the Death and Glories came out into their cockpit, the angry chatter died to a sudden silence. “So you’re at it again,” said Mr. Tedder. “What are you doing it for? Up late last night you were. I see a light in your windows. And now this morning you were seen casting off that yacht….” “Tying it up,” said Joe. “Why did you want to send my houseboat adrift?” “What about our rowing boat?” “You

“Christmas pudding,” said Pete. “Why not?” said Bill. “Gee whillikins, we’ll do it really proper.” The Death and Glory came foaming up towards the staithe. “Hullo,” said Joe, who was steering. “There’s Sir Garnet in our place. We’ll have to tie up ahead of her. Stand by to lower sail. No…. Never mind. Lower after we bring up. Tide’s flooding and we’ll better swing round and head this way.” Sir Garnet was the fastest trading wherry on the river. Her skipper, Jim Wooddall, and her mate, old

had a brick on his head. At last Tom went home to look for iodine, and the crew of the Death and Glory settled down for the night. 1Bearded tits and bitterns. CHAPTER II FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE “SOMEBODY’S been up early,” said Bill, sputtering and blowing after dipping his head in a bucket of water. “Never heard ’em shift that cruiser.” Joe and Pete crawled out into the cockpit, and rubbed the sleep from their eyes. The Death and Glory was alone at the staithe. The motor cruiser,

himself free, little knowing that he had left in the jaws of his pursuer the clue that at last would bring him to the gallows.” “He ain’t touched our mooring ropes,” said Joe as they came to the Death and Glory. “I know that. I moor her myself and all’s as I leave it.” Dick was looking again at the scrap of flannel. “Grey flannel trousers,” he said. “And rides a bicycle with Dunlop tyres. Probably lives in Horning … this side of the river anyhow because of his using the Ferry. And he’s lost the

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