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

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


"You might look after your friends, Gage," Tom called, pointing.
"They need attention."
"How did they come to be here?" gasped Dolph.
"They'll give you full particulars when they have time," Tom laughed.
"You boys won't feel quite so smart when our turn comes," snarled
Gage.
"Not a bit," Reade answered. "If you fellows have any sense you'll
conclude that you've had about all the settlement that you can stand."
Gage didn't make any answer. Doubtless he concluded that it wouldn't
be wise to talk back So he began working over Eb and Josh, until
they showed signs of reviving.
"Did ye---did ye kill 'em for us, Dolph?" gasped Josh, as he opened
his eyes and beheld the face of his comrade.
"No," said Gage curtly.
"Why not?"
"Shut up!"
Not many minutes more had passed when Eb became conscious.
"You fellows can go over to your camp, any time you want," suggested
Tom.
Slowly, painfully, the trio started.
"I feel almost ashamed of myself," Harry muttered.
"So do I," Tom agreed.


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