Herbert Joseph Moorhouse

Summary

Herbert Joseph Moorhouse,  Every Man for Himself

“ Without an instant's pause Phil went leaping over fallen trees and tearing through the undergrowth like one possessed, swearing at the occasional obstruction over which he tripped in the dark.
He broke through into the tote road just as the girl's fleeing figure loomed dimly in the twilight.
"Here, Cristy!" he shouted. "This way. The Saucer! Make for the
Saucer! Are you all right?"
"Yes," she panted. "Oh, Philip,—Svenson—call Svenson!" Neither of them gave thought to the familiar names by which they addressed each other under the stress of the moment.
”
Source: Gutenberg

Herbert Joseph Moorhouse,  Every Man for Himself

“ To the unsophisticated eyes of youth a shiny silk hat, a long-tailed frock coat, a gold-headed cane, a diamond ring and a prominent place upon the platform had been indicative of the top rungs of Fame and Success and Honor among men. The goings and comings of Society's votaries, the bright lights of the big Waring residence in Rosedale, the orchestras and bands and public processions and cheering and flags and bunting—these things had contributed to the awe with which Phil had regarded the Honorable Milton Waring in the days of boyhood impressions. ”
Source: Gutenberg

Herbert Joseph Moorhouse,  Every Man for Himself

“ Phil would take no dare from anybody! She laughed softly as she thought of it all, her cheeks blush-burning in the dark.
Time passed. She halted suddenly, aware of a huge shadowy something directly opposite, looming out at her unexpectedly. With a cry of delight she recognized it as a water-tank; she could make out the spout overhanging the track, a stick of pallor in the darkness.
And the station? Eagerly she ran forward—then stopped again, perplexed. There ought to be lights of some sort; but where were they? A day station, maybe, with the operator asleep not far away.
”
Source: Gutenberg

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