The Stillwater Tragedy
The Stillwater Tragedy By Thomas Bailey Aldrich I It is close upon daybreak. The great wall of pines and hemlocks that keep off the west wind from Stillwater stretches black and indeterminate against the sky. At intervals a dull, metallic sound, like the guttural twang of a violin string, rises form the frog-invested swamp skirting the highway. Suddenly the birds stir in their nests over there in the woodland, and break into that wild
than the other will make the tank travel to one side or the
other, the turn being in the direction of the slowest moving
belt. In this way we can steer when the trailer wheels are
broken."
"And what does your tank do except travel along, not
minding a hail of bullets?" asked Mr. Nestor.
"Well," answered Tom, "it can do anything any other tank
can do, and then some more. It can demolish a good-sized
house or heavy wall, break down big trees, and chew up
barbed-wire fences as if they were toothpicks. I'll show you
all that in due time. Just now, if the repairs are finished,
we can get back on the road--"
At that moment a door leading into the compartment where
Tom and his friends were talking opened, and one of the
workmen said:
"A man outside asking to see you, Mr. Swift."
"Pardon me, but I won't keep you a moment," interrupted a
suave voice. "I happened to observe your tank, and I took
the liberty of entering to see--"
"Simpson!" cried Ned Newton, as he recognized the man who
The Stillwater Tragedy By Thomas Bailey Aldrich I It is close upon daybreak. The great wall of pines and hemlocks that keep off the west wind from Stillwater stretches black and indeterminate against the sky. At intervals a dull, metallic sound, like the guttural twang of a violin string, rises form the frog-invested swamp skirting the highway. Suddenly the birds stir in their nests over there in the woodland, and break into that wild