The Uphill Climb E-Book

B.m. Bower

• Herausgeber: Publisher s11838
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

The Uphill Climb written by American author B. M. Bower. This book is one of many works by her.  It has already published in 1913. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance the original work, there are occasionally instances where imperfections such as blurred or missing pages, poor pictures or errant marks may have been introduced due to either the quality of the original work. Despite these occasional imperfections, we have brought it back into print as part of our ongoing global book preservation commitment, providing customers with access to the best possible historical reprints. We appreciate your understanding of these occasional imperfections, and sincerely hope you enjoy reading this book.

Leseprobe

The Uphill Climb

By

B. M. Bower

Illustrated by Charles M. Russell

Table of Contents

CHAPTER I. "Married! And I Don't Know Her Name!"

CHAPTER II. Wanted: Information

CHAPTER III. One Way to Drown Sorrow

CHAPTER IV. Reaction

CHAPTER V. "I Can Spare this Particular Girl"

CHAPTER VI. The Problem of Getting Somewhere

CHAPTER VII. The Foreman of the Double Cross

CHAPTER VIII. "I Wish You'd Quit Believing in Me!"

CHAPTER IX. Impressions

CHAPTER X. In Which the Demon Opens an Eye and Yawns

CHAPTER XI. "It's Going to Be an Uphill Climb!"

CHAPTER XII. At Hand-Grips with the Demon

CHAPTER XIII. A Plan Gone Wrong

CHAPTER XIV. The Feminine Point of View

CHAPTER XV. The Climb

CHAPTER XVI. To Find and Free a Wife

CHAPTER XVII. What Ford Found at the Top

"Hell-o, Ford, where the blazes did you drop down from?" a welcoming voice yelled.

CHAPTER I. "Married! And I Don't Know Her Name!"

Ford lifted his arms above his head to yawn as does a man who has slept too heavily, found his biceps stiffened and sore, and massaged them gingerly with his finger-tips. His eyes took on the vacancy of memory straining at the leash of forgetfulness. He sighed largely, swung his head slowly from left to right in mute admission of failure to grasp what lay just behind his slumber, and thereby discovered other muscles that protested against sudden movement. He felt his neck with a careful, rubbing gesture. One hand strayed to his left cheekbone, hovered there tentatively, wandered to the bridge of his nose, and from there dropped inertly to the bed.

"Lordy me! I must have been drunk last night," he said aloud, mechanically taking the straight line of logic from effect to cause, as much experience had taught him to do.

"You was—and then some," replied an unemotional voice from somewhere behind him.

"Oh! That you, Sandy?" Ford lay quiet, trying to remember. His finger-tips explored the right side of his face; now and then he winced under their touch, light as it was.

"I must have carried an awful load," he decided, again unerringly taking the backward trail from effect to cause. Later, logic carried him farther. "Who'd I lick, Sandy?"

"Several." The unseen Sandy gave one the impression of a man smoking and speaking between puffs. "Can't say just who—you did start in on. You wound up on—the preacher."

"Preacher?" Ford's tone matched the flicker of interest in his eyes.

"Uhn-hunh."

Ford meditated a moment. "I don't recollect ever licking a preacher before," he observed curiously.