Slowly and ponderously the United States transport, Sherman, moved out of the maze of boats that had clustered about her at the Brest dock. With ever-gathering speed she thrust her prow into the rippling water, leaving behind, on the wharf, cheering hundreds of Uncle Sam’s boys who envied the lot of their fellows in thus sailing for home after the Great War. Mingled with the resonant voices of the Americans were the shriller notes of their French comrades, who were bidding God-speed to their allied comrades.
Slowly and ponderously the United States transport, Sherman, moved out of the maze of boats that had clustered about her at the Brest dock. With ever-gathering speed she thrust her prow into the rippling water, leaving behind, on the wharf, cheering hundreds of Uncle Sam's boys who envied the lot of their fellows in thus sailing for home after the Great War. Mingled with the resonant voices of the Americans were the shriller notes of their French comrades, who were bidding God-speed to their allied comrades.
"Well, we're really off at last," remarked a tall, bronzed youth, speaking to some of his chums who leaned over the rail with him, waving to friends on the wharf.
[2]
"Yes, Jerry," remarked a rather stout khaki-clad soldier lad, "off at last. And now that the captain can dispense with my valuable services in warping the ship away from the dock-I believe warping is the proper word-I'm going to look--"
"For the kitchen!" interrupted a third member of the little group clustered about the lad called Jerry, who wore on his coat the D. S. C. of valor. "Isn't that what you were going to say, Bob?"
"What's that about a kitchen?" asked the youth called Jerry.
"Oh, Bob is up to his old tricks," remarked the soldier who had interrupted his friend's facetious words.
"Perhaps I may be, Ned," came in reply from the stout one; "but I know enough not to call the place on board a ship where food is prepared a 'kitchen.' Why don't you say galley, you land-lubber?" and with this parting shot Bob Baker, winking one eye at his tall friend, Jerry Hopkins, strolled aft.
He was soon lost in the throng of soldiers which crowded every available part of the transport, and Ned and Jerry, retaining their places by the rail, looked down at the water of the harbor which they were leaving behind. This was one of the first transports to depart for the United States after the terrible conflict, and in addition to taking[3] home a number of unwounded men, it also carried many casual cases.
Among the former were many friends and comrades of Jerry Hopkins, Ned Slade, and Bob Baker, three chums known to many of my readers as the "Motor Boys," of whom more will later be told.
"Yes, we're on our way," remarked Ned to Jerry, as the two stood somewhat apart for the moment, their friends at the rail having moved to one side. "We're on our way, and Bob hasn't lost much time in starting his favorite indoor sport."
"Well, I don't know that I blame him," announced Jerry. "The eating problem has been a hard one for all of us since this war started, and there's such a crowd on board that it isn't likely to be an easy matter to get a feed now. Bob always was one who believed in safety first, when it comes to his stomach."
"You're right!" assented Ned. "But there's one thing about him: He isn't mean, and if he finds a way to get an extra supply of grub he'll share it with us."
"You said a mouthful!" agreed Jerry.
For several moments they stood looking at the gradually disappearing reminders of the late conflict-the docks and the buildings at the Brest camp, in France, where they had spent some days[4] in waiting for transportation back to the United States. Then Ned turned to look over the seething deck.
"This is some crowd!" murmured Ned. "I hope Bob doesn't get lost in it."
"Especially if he does manage to find the galley, and can bribe or intimidate one of the cooks into slipping him something on the side," added Jerry. "In that case I hope Bob's memory carries him back to us, for, to tell you the truth, I'm hungry."
"So'm I," admitted Ned; "though I did pull a raw one on Chunky. But I guess we ought to consider ourselves lucky to be on board."
"You said it!" declared Jerry. "There's a lot of the boys who would give up a wound stripe for the sake of going back on one of these early boats. Now that the war is practically over, there's going to be a big slump in the enthusiasm that kept us going when nothing else would have done it. Yes, we're dead lucky to be going back."
And so, amid the whistle salutes of other craft, the waving of hands and the tossing of hats and caps from unknown well-wishers, the Sherman kept on her way.
Out toward the west she headed, out toward the land of the Stars and Stripes, and deep in their hearts Ned, Bob, and Jerry were thankful for the Providence that had picked them as among[5] the first to go back home after the fighting was over.
They had covered themselves with glory, for in addition to the D. S. C. bestowed on Jerry Hopkins, Ned and Bob had received honorable mention, and their company was one picked out for signal honor, the three boys sharing in the general praise.
"I wonder how things are going back in Cresville," mused Ned, after a period of silence on the part of himself and Jerry.
"That's queer! I was just thinking that same thing myself," the taller lad exclaimed. "It will seem mighty quiet after the hail-storms we've been through."
"Hail-storms is right," agreed Ned Slade. "But it can't be too quiet for me. All I want to do is to sit under a tree back of the house, with plenty of books and magazines to read, clean clothes-real clean clothes-to wear, a bath-tub where I know where it is, and--"
"Something to eat!" interrupted a voice behind him, and, turning, Ned and Jerry beheld their stout chum, Bob Baker, who smilingly held out some sandwiches.
"Running true to form," murmured Ned, as he accepted one, and also a bit of chocolate candy his friend extended. "How'd you manage to do it, Bob?"
[6]
"Oh, my hypnotic eye. Just told one of the cooks I had to have something if they didn't want the captain to read the service for burial at sea. And the cook allowed he didn't want that to happen so soon after we'd got started. This is the result," and Bob began munching on his share of the auxiliary rations, an example followed by Ned and Jerry.
"Am I right?" mumbled Bob, between bites.
"Right-O, Chunky!" murmured Jerry. "This touches the right spot."
"Do you accept my amendment regarding the necessities you require on reaching home, Ned?" asked Bob, after a period of eloquent silence.
"Amendment accepted, all in favor say 'aye!'" exclaimed Ned, adding, a moment later: "The ayes have it!"
"Didn't see anything of Professor Snodgrass, did you?" asked Jerry of his chums, as they disposed of the last of the sandwiches and chocolate Bob had procured in some mysterious way.
"No," answered Ned. "The last I saw of him was when he had seen to it that Gladys Petersen and Dorothy Gibbs were safely on their way home and he was packing up his pictures and specimens of bugs and things to ship to the college."
"He said he might possibly join us on this transport," said Bob. "And he may be here, for[7] all we know. Looks as if everybody I ever met in France is on board."
"Not that pretty little girl with the black hair and brown eyes you were so fond of in the restaurant-she isn't here, is she?" asked Jerry.
"Oh, cut it out!" growled Bob. "You know what I mean."
"But did she know what you meant?" asked Ned pointedly. "You know you never could get the hang of the French words, and she used to rip them out like a drygoods clerk tearing off a yard of muslin."
"Say, if you fellows think I'm going to rustle grub for you, and then have you insult me, you've got another guess and a half coming!" cried Bob hotly-so hotly, in fact, that Jerry quickly interposed.
"That's all right, Bob," he said quietly, laying a cautioning hand on Ned's shoulder. "We two were just as fond of Marie as you were, only she seemed to take more of a notion to you than she did to us."
This admission apparently brightened Bob visibly, and his anger slowly died away.
"And, going back to the original subject," said Ned, "did either of you see the professor?"
They had not, they admitted.
"Well, we're not likely to hear from him until we get across, then," decided Bob.
[8]
But it was not to be long before his words were disproved.
Gathering speed, the transport moved ahead, and the craft was approaching the open sea, leaving behind, in a misty haze, the camp at Brest, when without warning she suddenly slowed up, not gradually, as if making a regular stop, but with a jar and a shudder that seemed to go through her whole structure.
"What's that?" cried Bob, as he and his chums felt the tremors and the vibration.
"Something's wrong!" said Ned in a low voice.
"Could we have struck a mine?" asked Bob in a half whisper, as though he feared to start a panic. "It couldn't be a sub, could it? I thought--"
He did not finish the sentence, for in the midst of it the vessel started on again; but, to the surprise of all, she began turning slowly back toward the port she had so recently left.
Jack Ranger's Western Trip From Boarding School to Ranch and Range by Clarence Young
The Motor Boys on the Pacific; Or, the Young Derelict Hunters by Clarence Young
To the public, Arabella was Owen's trusty secretary who catered to all his needs and served as the primary blood donor of his beloved, who was in a coma. Behind closed doors, she was Owen's submissive wife. Arabella was quiet and obedient, and she endured every humiliation without a word of protest. Rumored to be a neat freak, Owen had tossed the last woman who had dared to kiss him into the river. Yet he pinned Arabella against the wall and demanded, "Give me a child, and I’ll let you go!" Arabella pushed him away and flashed him a cold smile. "You are not worthy!"
Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.
Kaelyn devoted three years tending to her husband after a terrible accident. But once he was fully recovered, he cast her aside and brought his first love back from abroad. Devastated, Kaelyn decided on a divorce as people mocked her for being discarded. She went on to reinvent herself, becoming a highly sought-after doctor, a champion racer, and an internationally renowned architectural designer. Even then, the traitors sneered in disdain, believing Kaelyn would never find someone. But then the ex-husband’s uncle, a powerful warlord, returned with his army to ask for Kaelyn’s hand in marriage.
On the day of their wedding anniversary, Joshua's mistress drugged Alicia, and she ended up in a stranger's bed. In one night, Alicia lost her innocence, while Joshua's mistress carried his child in her womb. Heartbroken and humiliated, Alicia demanded a divorce, but Joshua saw it as yet another tantrum. When they finally parted ways, she went on to become a renowned artist, sought out and admired by everyone. Consumed by regret, Joshua darkened her doorstep in hopes of reconciliation, only to find her in the arms of a powerful tycoon. "Say hello to your sister-in-law."
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.