"We wouldn't have spoken of it if this streak hadn't
panned today. Now, we know we're going to have doings on the
ridge this winter."
"If the yellow rook holds out," Tom urged.
"Don't say anything more in that strain, just now, Reade," whispered
Jim. "If you do, and things go badly, the boys will think you've
been the camp's Jonah."
Tom went back to work in the partners' shack. Jim came in at ten
and went to bed. It was midnight when Tom shook Harry by the shoulder.
"Time to get up, young man, and give me a rest," Tom announced.
Harry got drowsily out of his bunk.
"Why didn't you call me before, Tom?"
"Well, to tell the truth, I was too busy. But now you may have
a few hours' work all by yourself, while I turn in," drawled Reade.
"Tom, old fellow, there's something up," discovered Hazelton,
now studying his chum's face keenly. "Out with it."
Then Tom told of the day's luck, though he cautioned Harry against
too soon growing elated.
"We'll just wait and hope," Reade finished.
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