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    Miss Martin's Mission
    Miss Martin's Mission
    Miss Martin's Mission
    Ebook23 pages21 minutes

    Miss Martin's Mission

    By B. M. Bower

    ()

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    About this ebook

    When Andy Green, fresh-combed and shining with soap and towel polish, walked into the dining-room of the Dry Lake Hotel, he felt not the slightest premonition of what was about to befall.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilder Publications, Inc.
    Release dateJun 1, 2014
    ISBN9781627559058
    Miss Martin's Mission

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      Book preview

      Miss Martin's Mission - B. M. Bower

      MISS MARTIN'S MISSION

      B. M. BOWER

      Wilder Publications

      Copyright © 2014 Wilder Publications

      Cover image © Can Stock Photo Inc. / Massonforstock

      All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

      Manufactured in the United States of America

      10   9   8   7   6   5   4   3   2   1

      ISBN 978-1-62755-905-8

      When Andy Green, fresh-combed and shining with soap and towel polish, walked into the dining-room of the Dry Lake Hotel, he felt not the slightest premonition of what was about to befall. His chief sensation was the hunger which comes of early rising and of many hours spent in the open, and beyond that he was hoping that the Chinaman cook had made some meat-pie, like he had the week before. His eyes, searching unobtrusively the long table bearing the unmistakable signs of many other hungry men gone before—for Andy was late—failed to warn him. He pulled out his chair and sat down, still looking for meat-pie.

      Good afternoon! cried an eager, feminine voice just across the table.

      Andy started guiltily. He had been dimly aware that some one was sitting there, but, being occupied with other things, had not given a thought to the sitter, or a glance. Now he did both while he said good afternoon with perfunctory politeness.

      Such a beautiful day, isn't it? so invigorating, like rare, old wine!

      Andy assented somewhat dubiously; it had never just struck him that way; he thought fleetingly that perhaps it was because he had never come across any rare, old wine. He ventured another glance. She was not young, and she

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