A veranda extended across the front of the building flush with the wooden side-walk.

The veranda was furnished with a railing, and the railing was furnished at all times of the day--except for a brief nooning from twelve to half-past--with a line of boot-soles in assorted sizes.
We drew up with a flourish before the wooden steps in front of the hotel, and I threw the lines to the stable boy who came forward to receive us with an amusing air of importance.

His connection with the Luray tragedy conferred a halo of distinction, and he realized the fact.
It was not every one in the neighborhood who had had the honor of being cursed by a murderer.

As we alighted Terry stopped to ask him a few questions.

The boy had told his story to so many credulous audiences that by this time it was well-nigh unrecognizable.