Sketches in Duneland

“That’s a gas motor wot ye stick on the back o’ yer boat. You fill up the tin thing with gasoline an’ some kind of oil, an’ then whirl that wheel wot’s got the little wooden han...

A village gossip had said that Mrs. Smetters would sometimes return to the mounds, after she had left them, and transfer a bunch of geraniums from one to another, and once, she...

“That feller’s got the third degree all right,” remarked Saunders, as he carefully put the ghost back into its place. “’Tain’t often anybody comes, but w’en they do they gotta b...

“Gosh! Look at that id’jut!” exclaimed Sipes, as he picked up the jug. “They was two gallons in ’ere w’en we started out, an’ they was about two quarts last night. This soak’s s...

“Gimme that!” yelled Sipes, and I heard the little volume strike the sand somewhere out in the dark near the water. “Wot d’ye s’pose I got this place fer if it ain’t to have pea...

The aspect of affairs was getting serious. I took Narcissus in hand and subjected him to a thorough cross-examination. I told him that we wanted to pay for anything we used, and...

The broken-hearted Omemee went with those who departed for the scene of the tragedy. No trail was visible except those of Red Owl and Peg Leg. The old man’s tracks were easily r...

He had made several trips to the village with the old cronies and they had acquired a large part of the stock of the general store. Their advent must have been a godsend to the...

“The mast an’ them halyards over the house is to fly signals. W’en we’r’ up er down the beach, er out buzz’n on the lake, Cookie runs up the mess flag w’en it’s dinner time. He...

When the skies cleared Wa-be-no-je piled more rocks over the entrance to the cave and started homeward with a light heart. Weary miles were traversed before he could see the fai...

Produced by ellinora, Wayne Hammond and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Inte...

“Improvements” were contemplated in Duneland, and the spectre of hopeless ugliness hovered along its borders. The altar of Mammon awaited a sacrifice, for “money might be made h...