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

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

"
Despite his great anxiety, Reade could not suppress the smile that
Jim's advice brought out. It was plain that Ferrers, good fellow
as he was, would be of no use on the medical end of the fight that
must be waged.
Tom searched the chest and found the medicines. Then he looked
up the doses and started to administer the remedies as directed.
Even over the steadily increasing gale the notes of the supper
horn reached them faintly.
"It's too tough weather to expect the cook to bring the stuff
over here tonight," said Jim. "So, if you can spare me, I'll
go and eat with the boys. Then I'll bring your chuck over to
you."
Alf came out of his corner, pulling on the ragged overcoat that
he had picked up in a trade with an undersized man down at the
Bright Hope Mine.
Left alone, Tom drew a stool up beside the bunk, and sat studying
his chum's face.
Twenty minutes later Hazelton opened his eyes.
"You're feeling better, now, aren't you?" asked Tom hopefully.
"I---I guess so," Harry muttered faintly.


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