let the grass grow under one's feet

I haven't let the grass grow under my feet. I was wired for at 3:15, reached Yoxley Old Place at 5, conducted my investigation, was back at Charing Cross by the last train, and straighte to you by cab.

He and Rebecca then found a secluded boardinghouse to which Will and Susannah would move on Monday. Before the westbound left on Saturday morning, McCaleb spent a few minutes alone with Will. “You'll be released from here Monday,” ... Don't let any grass grow under your feet in Cheyenne; once you're there, head for Box Elder Creek.”