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

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

He halted, shaking his fist in the direction from
which the stones had come.
Another lot of stones flew toward him. The prowler waited no
longer, but turned, making for Gage's camp as fast as he could go.
"That ought to hold those rascals for a little while," speculated
Harry. "But, of course, there'll be a come-back. What'll they
do to me now, I wonder?"
By way of precaution Hazelton cautiously shifted to another hiding
place. Within fifteen minutes he saw the same prowler stealing
back into camp. When the fellow was near enough, Harry let fly
a stone that dropped near the rascal's toes.
"Hey, you stop that, or I'll make you wish you had!" roared the
fellow, shaking his fist.
Harry's answer was to drive two more stones in, sending them close
to the fellow, yet without hitting him.
Again the man shouted at him, though he did not attempt to come
any nearer to so expert a thrower of stones.
Then, suddenly, just behind him, Harry Hazelton heard a sound.
In the next instant two men hurled themselves upon the young
engineer, pinning him to the ground.


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