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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"Or, Seeking Fortune on the Turn of a Pick"


"No; I'll keep you here as long as we can use a boy. But, mark
me, Alf, somehow, and before very long, I'm going to break you
from your cigarettes. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm
going to do it just the same!"
Alf Drew looked uncommonly solemn, but he said nothing.
For five minutes more they walked on, then came suddenly out from
under a line of trees and stood at the edge of a low cliff, gazing
down in astonishment at the gully below them.
"What on earth-----" began Tom Reade, in amazement.
"Let's scoot!" begged Alf tremulously. "There's going to be some
killing right down there!"
It certainly looked that way.
In the gully three automobiles, showing the effects of long travel
over hard roads, stood close together. More than a dozen people,
all but two of whom were dressed in "eastern" clothes, stood by the
machines. Two of the party were women, and one a girl of twelve.
The two men who belonged to the party, but did not appear to be
"eastern," had drawn revolvers, and now stood facing four
sullen-looking men who stood with the butts of their rifles resting
on the ground.


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