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

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


"Well, I'll try to make good use of my time, Harry, old fellow.
For one thing, if you haunt camp and keep Gage's crowd busy,
then you'll keep them from following or watching me. Don't you
see?"
"No; I don't see," grunted Hazelton. "But what I do suspect is
that you have something up your sleeve that I may not find out
for two or three days to come. Yet, whatever it is, it will be
for our mutual good. I can depend upon you, Tom Reade! Go ahead;
go as far as you like."
"Get the stones gathered up, then, and get back to camp," counseled
Reade. "Don't lose too much time about it, for Gage's rascal
may be able to do a lot of harm in the two or three minutes that
you might be late in getting back."
Harry industriously picked up stones. Hardly had he started when
Tom Reade silently vanished.
"Well, I'm glad, anyway, that Tom doesn't want us both away from
camp while he's doing something," reflected Hazelton, as he began
to move cautiously back. "There wouldn't be any camp by noon
if we were both away.


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