Harper was in the smoker, pulling at a brierwood pipe and looking sour enough.
Supplying ourselves with the primal necessities of stout sticks and brierwood pipes we set out.
Suppose then we smoke a pipe of peace, and Carroll extracted from the recesses of his pocket two brierwood pipes.
Brierwood glanced at the door sharply,—even fearfully,—his hand motionless on the rolls of money.
Out shot the brierwood like a projectile, and a giant finger wagged at the intruder.
