I thought Jake Weller already had an under sheriff.

But Weller doesn't believe him?

Retiring Sheriff Jake Weller was coaxing him over for a roadside chat.

"I thought you were Jake Weller," Dean said with a smile.

Do I look like Jake Weller?

She added, "All but you—and maybe Sheriff Weller."

I'm pleased Martha trusted us enough to confide in us, even though now I have to take my hat in my hand and talk Jake Weller into spelunking after a skeleton.

I want to stop down and see Jake Weller about Martha's bony little problem.

With a wave, he left to meet with Jake Weller.

But the smile disappeared quickly when he came face to face, not with Jake Weller, but Lieutenant Fitzgerald.

Well, maybe your buddy Jake Weller came running when you yelled hide-and-seek, but I don't.

Jake Weller has a moustache.

Jake Weller looks good in a moustache.

Don't feel just because Jake Weller thinks you'd make a good sheriff you have to run.

It was Jake Weller telephoning long distance from California.

"Hi, sheriff," Weller said in greeting.

They chatted further about general matters—mutual friends, and from Weller, some advice on campaigning.

Dean considered mentioning Martha's discovery of bones but decided not trespass on Jake Weller's vacation.

Kiss a bunch of old ladies for me, Weller said as he hung up.

Jake Weller said his family was from here.

Just because Jake Weller has a pot belly doesn't mean all sheriffs are supposed to be fat.

Jake Weller had said Larkin was at one time a guard at the Cañon City prison, where Martha Boyd's mother was incarcerated.

What about Jake Weller?

The familiar voice of Jake Weller boomed in his ears.

He filled a thermos of coffee—no one could drink Weller's brew—and wasted no time in arriving at the sheriff's office.

"Sit down," Weller said.

Dean thanked Weller for his concern and asked, What's the deal with Fitzgerald?

Dean then brought Lydia Larkin into the picture by telling Jake Weller how she had radioed Fitzgerald with the two Denver investigators in her car, making the call from the spot where he claimed she'd be out of reception.

Weller added, "Maybe Lydia reported that business to Denver and that's why Fitzgerald got recalled."

"Nope," Dean answered honestly but Weller didn't let him off the hook.

He never could lie to Jake Weller.

Weller seemed to consider just how much he wanted to know.

Weller yawned, a sure end to the discussion.

Weller rose, picking up a form from his desk.

"I can't believe Fitzgerald had the nerve to even fingerprint the old guy," Weller said, shaking his head.

Jake Weller gave him a cold stare.

It was Jake Weller.

There was a question of jurisdictions and when Weller volunteered that Martha was safe and comfortable at Bird Song where she'd spent the last six months, no one seemed to protest.

And no, Jake Weller told them, there were no further details on Fitzgerald's absence.

A quick telephone call to Jake Weller produced no further word on whether or not Fitzgerald had reported as summoned to Denver.

He was, as Jake Weller reported, freshly barbered and shaven.

Finally, after lunch, Dean telephoned Jake Weller, first to report on Martha's wellbeing and in hopes of learning more about Fitzgerald's whereabouts.

Weller assured Dean that the authorities were satisfied with Martha's temporary situation.

Weller said before signing off.

Weller asked the question amid an unrestrained chuckle.

Weller said as he hung up.

It was Jake Weller's voice calling to her.

Fred O'Connor was instructed to call Jake Weller and tell him where they were located, but Dean couldn't wait.

She whispered, Martha's waiting for Jake Weller.

Dean privately disclosed to Jake Weller Brandon Westlake's final statement of visiting Fitzgerald.

When they questioned Jake Weller about the source of the high-level endorsement, he hinted Lydia Larkin knew someone in the system who'd pulled strings.

Jake Weller presented it to Dean one sunny afternoon while the two were sharing a diet-breaking ice cream on the stoop of a Seventh Avenue candy store.

He kissed Cynthia good-bye and strolled the sun-lit streets the short distance to Sheriff Jake Weller's office behind the courthouse.

"It's been a while," Weller said.

Dean's past involvements with Sheriff Weller had always managed to cause the lawman untold grief.

While the two maintained mutual respect, Jake Weller appeared unsettled in Dean's presence, a combination of insecurity over Dean's more extensive experience and memories of past encounters that had pushed the lawman into compromising situations.

"I suppose this is about Mrs. Shipton," Weller said, taking Dean by total surprise.

Weller frowned and rolled his eyes.

Jake Weller let out a deep sigh.

"Yeah," Weller answered as he rubbed his chin in thought.

Weller nodded his head.

Weller shook his head.

Dean returned to Bird Song and brought Cynthia up to date on his conversation with Sheriff Weller over a quiet lunch of soup and grilled cheese.

They both agreed to let the situation take its course now that Weller was involved.

Are you going to report what we saw to Sheriff Weller?

This time he'd bury Jake Weller in a mountain of minutiae.

"I'll give Weller a call when I get back," he said, generating a look of surprise on his wife's face.

Dean started to get out of the car but Weller waved him on and Ryland pulled away from Bird Song.

That's why Sheriff Weller came by this morning, to let us know.

Weller said Shipton knows where Edith is staying.

Weller says Shipton claims he doesn't.

When Janet told him she was going to home-school Martha, Weller suggested rather firmly it might be a good idea if Martha went back to a more formal setting.

Sheriff Weller or the police chief would jump all over you.

We don't want to give Bird Song the wrong reputation and have Sheriff Jake Weller down here busting the place.

But I'm still going to call Jake Weller.

He spoke to the sheriff at home, but, as he suspected, Weller could do nothing without Edith's referral.

Dean picked up the telephone and called Sheriff Weller.

Weller's only concession was to say he'd talk to Shipton in hopes of getting him to leave voluntarily, if he could find the time.

Sheriff Weller spent half the night here.

The front door Dean had neglected to lock opened and Sheriff Weller strolled in without knocking.

Weller ignored Dean and his sarcasm as he flopped down on the sofa.

Weller turned to Dean, "I thought you might be interested in the welfare of your guests."

Again, Weller ignored Dean's question.

When Weller didn't answer, Dean finally said, I was looking for Cynthia.

"I'm sorry about Cynthia's problems," Weller said.

Weller rocked back and at first Dean didn't think he'd answer.

Weller squirmed his large frame around, reaching into his pocket, retrieving first a handkerchief, then a set of keys and eventually a red Swiss Army knife.

Once again, Weller had found a way to make Dean feel stupid.

Weller smiled and began counting off on his fingers.

Fred poured a full glass of Tequila for Weller but left the other two glasses empty.

"Look," Weller said as he reached for his glass.

Weller said with a smile that said he couldn't resist slipping one in at Dean's expense.

Weller put his feet up on the coffee table and took a long swallow.

Weller tipped his glass high.

Dean asked sharply, tired of Weller's game playing.

"Dean," Weller answered, as he rose to leave.

And when I say police, I don't just mean Jake Weller.

"This is still Weller's case," he replied.

It was Jake Weller, sounding annoyed at the world.

Not only was he miffed at Weller's attitude, but at the short length of his own fuse.

Dean had hardly begun clearing the walk of the deep snow before Jake Weller drove up.

Weller continued, "That's why I'm in deep shit."

Most of the climbing gear was absent, presumably picked up by Weller at the ice park.

But shouldn't Sheriff Weller be here?

Your very good friend Sheriff Weller is busy chasing speeders and bike-nappers.

Yes, it's my knife Weller found up there and no, I don't have any idea how it got there.

We know you and your good buddy Jake Weller played it fast and loose last summer when that guy Glick got killed.

Yes, Shipton whispered the name Dean to Jake Weller, but perhaps he didn't mean David Dean!

Either Jerome Shipton would have seen the cut and not used the rope, or he would have fallen so far he'd be whispering to Lucifer, not Jake Weller.

When Dean kicked the door loose from the accumulated snow blown against it, he found Jake Weller dressed in civilian clothes, huddled against the frame of the unshoveled rear entrance.

Weller had tromped through several feet of snow and was white to his thighs.

Weller prodded him further to the shadows beyond before he answered.

Weller just rolled his eyes and smiled, but then turned serious.

"Keep poking and listening," Weller said as he turned toward the street.

He filled in his stepfather on his conversation with Weller as the two shared a macaroni dinner Fred had heated up.

Dean turned at the sound of the shop door opening to see Sheriff Jake Weller standing, hands on hips, staring down at him.

Weller asked "What do I have, some sort of tracking device stuck in my shorts?"

Priscilla handed the Weller a coffee cup without being asked, a sure sign the sheriff was a regular.

Weller asked, eying the dispenser suspiciously.

When Dean didn't respond, Weller continued.

Dean was startled by Weller's seriousness.

Dean could see Jake Weller was dead serious.

Weller continued, the trace of a smile on his face.

"Vote for David Dean, ace detective," Weller said with a grin as he pulled himself from the chair.

My bet is she disguised herself as you—that's why Shipton said your name to Jake Weller!

Dean brought Fred up to date on not only the telephone call to his wife, but his meeting with Weller and his speculation that Cynthia might have seen Donnie Ryland near the accident scene.

Even Sheriff Jake Weller was there, and the city police chief and, in various costumes of night-wear, Fred, the Quincy sisters and Gladys Turnbull who'd let out a banshee scream that woke everyone but poor Edith Shipton, who'd never wake again.

Jake Weller asked, with raised eyebrow.

Weller read it aloud.

It was Jake Weller who spoke up.

The only representative of officialdom remaining on premises, in even a semi-official capacity, was Sheriff Jake Weller.

Weller took another bite of his sandwich, waved Dean to a seat as if he were the host, and continued with his discourse.

Weller sat back and took another chaw from his tuna salad sandwich, brushing a few crumbs from his chin.

"No doubt about it," Weller answered.

"Hey," Weller said, his tone conveyed a surprising note of sympathy.

Regardless of Weller's kind words, he realized deep down if he had been more understanding of the troubled woman, she might still be alive.

"Well," Weller said smugly, "That locks it up even tighter.

Dean turned to Weller.

Weller looked as if the answer should have been obvious.

Weller asked, changing the subject.

Weller's cheek twitched noticeably and Fred looked up.

"On that note, I'm out of here," Weller smiled.

I didn't say anything to Weller 'cause he's so positive everything is all wrapped up and tied with a bow, but I knew you and me would want to make double-dipped sure.

According to Weller, the answer is no.

Dean hadn't spoken to Jake Weller in nearly two weeks when he gave the law man a call.

Dean asked Weller to contact Shipton concerning disposition.

Jake Weller said he'd look into it and that afternoon he stopped by the inn.

Weller ignored the question and handed Dean a sheaf of papers.

Weller poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

Dean asked, as Weller eyed a second piece of pie.

Dean helped Weller carry the remaining articles into Bird Song.

As soon as Jake Weller left, Cynthia questioned her husband about the candidate filing papers Weller handed him.

Dean hadn't received word from the Shipton family since Weller had deposited the baggage on his doorstep.

Did he pick up everything—all the items Jake Weller brought by and the luggage we were holding—and the climbing gear?

He dialed Sheriff Jake Weller's office while Fred continued to question him, but he waved him off with a shake of his head.

Keep trying to locate Weller.

If you'd taken time to talk to Weller and the rest of them, they'd be here, not just you.

Shipton's traveling companion, Penelope Something, hysterically filled in what little she knew to Jake Weller and Emile Corday, both of whom visited the patient at the hospital.

Sheriff Weller told me that later.

Yes. But Weller told me in the hospital that in the confusion of getting Shipton out of the gorge, no one examined the bottom of the cliff, where he landed.

I should have discussed Jake Weller's suggestion about my running for sheriff before dismissing it.

Weller, 1869.

Bernard Weller, and machine-guns under Capt.

Weller who gave him reinforcements, but by the time he got back Lt.-Comm.

Major Weller now received Lt.-Comm.

Weller.

Schneider, Wurttembergische Geschichte (Stuttgart, 1896); Belschner, Geschichte von Wurttemberg in Wort and Bild (Stuttgart, 1902); Weller, Wurttemberg in der deutschen Geschichte (Stuttgart, 1900); K.

While Dean, a retired Pennsylvania police detective, was reluctant to return to law enforcement, Sheriff Jake Weller's retirement offered an opportunity not easily dismissed.

Retiring Sheriff Jake Weller was coaxing him over for a roadside chat.

"I thought you were Jake Weller," Dean said with a smile.

Do I look like Jake Weller?

I thought Jake Weller already had an under sheriff.

She added, "All but you—and maybe Sheriff Weller."

I'm pleased Martha trusted us enough to confide in us, even though now I have to take my hat in my hand and talk Jake Weller into spelunking after a skeleton.

I want to stop down and see Jake Weller about Martha's bony little problem.

He made a photocopy of the map Martha drew, trying to construct how he would explain the situation to Jake Weller and minimize the hassle he knew Jake would give him.

With a wave, he left to meet with Jake Weller.

But the smile disappeared quickly when he came face to face, not with Jake Weller, but Lieutenant Fitzgerald.

This dialog was becoming reminiscent of earlier conversations with Jake Weller in which Dean always managed to sound incredibly stupid.

Well, maybe your buddy Jake Weller came running when you yelled hide-and-seek, but I don't.

Jake Weller has a moustache.

Jake Weller looks good in a moustache.

Don't feel just because Jake Weller thinks you'd make a good sheriff you have to run.

It was Jake Weller telephoning long distance from California.

"Hi, sheriff," Weller said in greeting.

They chatted further about general matters—mutual friends, and from Weller, some advice on campaigning.

Dean considered mentioning Martha's discovery of bones but decided not trespass on Jake Weller's vacation.

Kiss a bunch of old ladies for me, Weller said as he hung up.

Jake Weller said his family was from here.

Just because Jake Weller has a pot belly doesn't mean all sheriffs are supposed to be fat.

Jake Weller had said Larkin was at one time a guard at the Cañon City prison, where Martha Boyd's mother was incarcerated.

What about Jake Weller?

The familiar voice of Jake Weller boomed in his ears.

In spite of his trepidation at contact with any element of the law this morning, knowing Jake Weller was involved gave Dean a measure of comfort.

He filled a thermos of coffee—no one could drink Weller's brew—and wasted no time in arriving at the sheriff's office.

Jake Weller was seated in his familiar position behind his desk dressed in his wrinkled uniform.

"Sit down," Weller said.

Dean thanked Weller for his concern and asked, What's the deal with Fitzgerald?

Dean then brought Lydia Larkin into the picture by telling Jake Weller how she had radioed Fitzgerald with the two Denver investigators in her car, making the call from the spot where he claimed she'd be out of reception.

Weller added, "Maybe Lydia reported that business to Denver and that's why Fitzgerald got recalled."

"Nope," Dean answered honestly but Weller didn't let him off the hook.

He never could lie to Jake Weller.

Weller seemed to consider just how much he wanted to know.

Weller yawned, a sure end to the discussion.

Weller rose, picking up a form from his desk.

"I can't believe Fitzgerald had the nerve to even fingerprint the old guy," Weller said, shaking his head.

Jake Weller gave him a cold stare.

Weller handed him the card without a word as Dean tried to hold his relief in check.

It was Jake Weller.

It was Dean's idea to telephone Jake Weller to intercede in breaking the news in the appropriate places that at least half the search was now unnecessary.

There was a question of jurisdictions and when Weller volunteered that Martha was safe and comfortable at Bird Song where she'd spent the last six months, no one seemed to protest.

And no, Jake Weller told them, there were no further details on Fitzgerald's absence.

A quick telephone call to Jake Weller produced no further word on whether or not Fitzgerald had reported as summoned to Denver.

He was, as Jake Weller reported, freshly barbered and shaven.

Finally, after lunch, Dean telephoned Jake Weller, first to report on Martha's wellbeing and in hopes of learning more about Fitzgerald's whereabouts.

Weller assured Dean that the authorities were satisfied with Martha's temporary situation.

Weller said before signing off.

Weller asked the question amid an unrestrained chuckle.

Weller said as he hung up.

It was Jake Weller's voice calling to her.

Radio etiquette was never to Jake Weller's liking.

Fred O'Connor was instructed to call Jake Weller and tell him where they were located, but Dean couldn't wait.

She whispered, Martha's waiting for Jake Weller.

Dean did not suggest that Officer Larkin who answered the 911 call in Jake Weller's absence had acted hastily, though in his mind he questioned the shooting.

Dean privately disclosed to Jake Weller Brandon Westlake's final statement of visiting Fitzgerald.

When they questioned Jake Weller about the source of the high-level endorsement, he hinted Lydia Larkin knew someone in the system who'd pulled strings.

Jake Weller presented it to Dean one sunny afternoon while the two were sharing a diet-breaking ice cream on the stoop of a Seventh Avenue candy store.

He kissed Cynthia good-bye and strolled the sun-lit streets the short distance to Sheriff Jake Weller's office behind the courthouse.

"It's been a while," Weller said.

Dean's past involvements with Sheriff Weller had always managed to cause the lawman untold grief.

While the two maintained mutual respect, Jake Weller appeared unsettled in Dean's presence, a combination of insecurity over Dean's more extensive experience and memories of past encounters that had pushed the lawman into compromising situations.

"I suppose this is about Mrs. Shipton," Weller said, taking Dean by total surprise.

Weller frowned and rolled his eyes.

Jake Weller let out a deep sigh.

"Yeah," Weller answered as he rubbed his chin in thought.

Weller nodded his head.

Weller shook his head.

Dean returned to Bird Song and brought Cynthia up to date on his conversation with Sheriff Weller over a quiet lunch of soup and grilled cheese.

They both agreed to let the situation take its course now that Weller was involved.

Are you going to report what we saw to Sheriff Weller?

This time he'd bury Jake Weller in a mountain of minutiae.

"I'll give Weller a call when I get back," he said, generating a look of surprise on his wife's face.

Behind them, Sheriff Jake Weller pulled up in his official vehicle.

Dean started to get out of the car but Weller waved him on and Ryland pulled away from Bird Song.

That's why Sheriff Weller came by this morning, to let us know.

Weller said Shipton knows where Edith is staying.

Weller says Shipton claims he doesn't.

But Weller doesn't believe him?

When Janet told him she was going to home-school Martha, Weller suggested rather firmly it might be a good idea if Martha went back to a more formal setting.

Dean called Sheriff Weller, concerned that Jerome Shipton would further disrupt Bird Song but Weller could offer little help.

Sheriff Weller or the police chief would jump all over you.

We don't want to give Bird Song the wrong reputation and have Sheriff Jake Weller down here busting the place.

But I'm still going to call Jake Weller.

He spoke to the sheriff at home, but, as he suspected, Weller could do nothing without Edith's referral.

Dean picked up the telephone and called Sheriff Weller.

While Weller knew nothing of Dean's legal right to evict Shipton, he didn't seem to feel it was his concern and politely refused to come over and expel him.

Weller's only concession was to say he'd talk to Shipton in hopes of getting him to leave voluntarily, if he could find the time.

And then, to Dean's surprise, Weller added, Did you ever give a thought that maybe it's the wife who's the real culprit here?

Sheriff Weller spent half the night here.

The front door Dean had neglected to lock opened and Sheriff Weller strolled in without knocking.

Weller ignored Dean and his sarcasm as he flopped down on the sofa.

Weller turned to Dean, "I thought you might be interested in the welfare of your guests."

Again, Weller ignored Dean's question.

When Weller didn't answer, Dean finally said, I was looking for Cynthia.

"I'm sorry about Cynthia's problems," Weller said.

Weller rocked back and at first Dean didn't think he'd answer.

Weller squirmed his large frame around, reaching into his pocket, retrieving first a handkerchief, then a set of keys and eventually a red Swiss Army knife.

Once again, Weller had found a way to make Dean feel stupid.

Weller smiled and began counting off on his fingers.

Fred poured a full glass of Tequila for Weller but left the other two glasses empty.

"Look," Weller said as he reached for his glass.

Weller said with a smile that said he couldn't resist slipping one in at Dean's expense.

Weller put his feet up on the coffee table and took a long swallow.

Weller tipped his glass high.

Dean asked sharply, tired of Weller's game playing.

"Dean," Weller answered, as he rose to leave.

And when I say police, I don't just mean Jake Weller.

"This is still Weller's case," he replied.

It was Jake Weller, sounding annoyed at the world.

Not only was he miffed at Weller's attitude, but at the short length of his own fuse.

Dean had hardly begun clearing the walk of the deep snow before Jake Weller drove up.

Weller continued, "That's why I'm in deep shit."

Most of the climbing gear was absent, presumably picked up by Weller at the ice park.

But shouldn't Sheriff Weller be here?

Your very good friend Sheriff Weller is busy chasing speeders and bike-nappers.

Yes, it's my knife Weller found up there and no, I don't have any idea how it got there.

We know you and your good buddy Jake Weller played it fast and loose last summer when that guy Glick got killed.

Yes, Shipton whispered the name Dean to Jake Weller, but perhaps he didn't mean David Dean!

Either Jerome Shipton would have seen the cut and not used the rope, or he would have fallen so far he'd be whispering to Lucifer, not Jake Weller.

When Dean kicked the door loose from the accumulated snow blown against it, he found Jake Weller dressed in civilian clothes, huddled against the frame of the unshoveled rear entrance.

Weller had tromped through several feet of snow and was white to his thighs.

Weller prodded him further to the shadows beyond before he answered.

Weller just rolled his eyes and smiled, but then turned serious.

"Keep poking and listening," Weller said as he turned toward the street.

He filled in his stepfather on his conversation with Weller as the two shared a macaroni dinner Fred had heated up.

Dean turned at the sound of the shop door opening to see Sheriff Jake Weller standing, hands on hips, staring down at him.

Weller asked "What do I have, some sort of tracking device stuck in my shorts?"

Priscilla handed the Weller a coffee cup without being asked, a sure sign the sheriff was a regular.

Weller asked, eying the dispenser suspiciously.

When Dean didn't respond, Weller continued.

Dean was startled by Weller's seriousness.

Dean could see Jake Weller was dead serious.

Weller continued, the trace of a smile on his face.

"Vote for David Dean, ace detective," Weller said with a grin as he pulled himself from the chair.

Dean thought about it for all of ten seconds after Weller left, but once more on his bicycle, all thoughts of his future were restricted to immediate concerns of removing himself and his wife from the list of prime suspects in Jerome Shipton's attempted murder.

My bet is she disguised herself as you—that's why Shipton said your name to Jake Weller!

Dean brought Fred up to date on not only the telephone call to his wife, but his meeting with Weller and his speculation that Cynthia might have seen Donnie Ryland near the accident scene.

Even Sheriff Jake Weller was there, and the city police chief and, in various costumes of night-wear, Fred, the Quincy sisters and Gladys Turnbull who'd let out a banshee scream that woke everyone but poor Edith Shipton, who'd never wake again.

Jake Weller asked, with raised eyebrow.

Weller read it aloud.

It was Jake Weller who spoke up.

The only representative of officialdom remaining on premises, in even a semi-official capacity, was Sheriff Jake Weller.

Weller took another bite of his sandwich, waved Dean to a seat as if he were the host, and continued with his discourse.

Weller sat back and took another chaw from his tuna salad sandwich, brushing a few crumbs from his chin.

"No doubt about it," Weller answered.

"Hey," Weller said, his tone conveyed a surprising note of sympathy.

Regardless of Weller's kind words, he realized deep down if he had been more understanding of the troubled woman, she might still be alive.

"Well," Weller said smugly, "That locks it up even tighter.

Dean turned to Weller.

Weller looked as if the answer should have been obvious.

Weller asked, changing the subject.

Weller's cheek twitched noticeably and Fred looked up.

"On that note, I'm out of here," Weller smiled.

I didn't say anything to Weller 'cause he's so positive everything is all wrapped up and tied with a bow, but I knew you and me would want to make double-dipped sure.

According to Weller, the answer is no.

"That sort of answers the home schooling bit she was trying to pull before you had Jake Weller force the issue," Fred said.

Dean hadn't spoken to Jake Weller in nearly two weeks when he gave the law man a call.

Dean asked Weller to contact Shipton concerning disposition.

Jake Weller said he'd look into it and that afternoon he stopped by the inn.

Weller ignored the question and handed Dean a sheaf of papers.

Weller poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

Dean asked, as Weller eyed a second piece of pie.

Dean helped Weller carry the remaining articles into Bird Song.

As soon as Jake Weller left, Cynthia questioned her husband about the candidate filing papers Weller handed him.

Dean hadn't received word from the Shipton family since Weller had deposited the baggage on his doorstep.

Did he pick up everything—all the items Jake Weller brought by and the luggage we were holding—and the climbing gear?

He dialed Sheriff Jake Weller's office while Fred continued to question him, but he waved him off with a shake of his head.

Keep trying to locate Weller.

If you'd taken time to talk to Weller and the rest of them, they'd be here, not just you.

Shipton's traveling companion, Penelope Something, hysterically filled in what little she knew to Jake Weller and Emile Corday, both of whom visited the patient at the hospital.

Jake Weller told us he had difficulty locating Shipton to inform him of Edith's death.

Sheriff Weller told me that later.

Yes. But Weller told me in the hospital that in the confusion of getting Shipton out of the gorge, no one examined the bottom of the cliff, where he landed.

I should have discussed Jake Weller's suggestion about my running for sheriff before dismissing it.

choppy guitar riffs and a solo which is pure Weller.

His cross was almost deflected in by Wayne Brown before Weller stooped to nod home.

It left Weller with the simplest of point-blank headers.

Vera is dating a young hustler named Ford, played by Fredrick Weller.

It's raw and rocky, it gets straight to the point with choppy guitar riffs and a solo which is pure Weller.

It's raw and rocky, it gets straight to the point with choppy guitar riffs and a solo which is pure Weller.

Laurence used my father's surname (Maurice Weller) for a character in one of his thrillers, calling him Colonel Weller.

Weller, 1869.

In the English dialects of Kent, Essex and Norfolk there is a common change of v to w, but Ellis says (English Pronunciation, V, pp. 132, 229) that though he has made diligent search he has never been able to hear the v for w which is so characteristic of Sam and Tony Weller in the Pickwick Papers.

Bernard Weller, and machine-guns under Capt.

Weller who gave him reinforcements, but by the time he got back Lt.-Comm.

Major Weller now received Lt.-Comm.

Schneider, Wurttembergische Geschichte (Stuttgart, 1896); Belschner, Geschichte von Wurttemberg in Wort and Bild (Stuttgart, 1902); Weller, Wurttemberg in der deutschen Geschichte (Stuttgart, 1900); K.

Laurence used my father 's surname (Maurice Weller) for a character in one of his thrillers, calling him Colonel Weller.

I was only alerting Weller fans to a rumor, not inviting a torrent of criticism.