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

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

Then our claim will be established through our friend,
and we'll protect him from being jumped by any one else."
"If you live," Tom reminded the fellow.
"Oh, we'll live!" Gage retorted grimly. "We're hunted, now, and
we'll kill every man that comes near enough."
"Begin with this cub!" spoke up Eb, gruffly. "Don't play with
him until he tricks us and gets away."
"Perhaps you don't realize how close help is to me," Tom broke in
quickly. It was a "bluff," but he hoped that it might have its
effect.
"If there's help near you," quivered Gage, his anger rising, "we'll
make sure that it doesn't get here in time to do you any good.
Draw and finish him boys!"
Before Reade could tense his muscles for a spring, a shot rang
out behind them. Eb fell, with a swift, smothered groan of pain.
"Duck!" panted Dolph Gage. "Out of this! To cover, and then
we'll reckon with any one who tries to follow us!"
In the same instant Tom turned, bounding down the trail in the
direction from which the shot had come.


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