Dave Porter in the Gold Fields; Or, The Search for the Landslide MineStratemeyer, Edward
General
Dave Porter in the Gold Fields; Or, The Search for the Landslide Mine
Stratemeyer, Edward
Detective and mystery stories; Gold mines and mining -- Juvenile fiction; Miners -- Juvenile fiction; Western stories
"What are you after, anyway?" The question came from Dave, who had
followed his chums into the building. Buster, Shadow, and Luke were
outside, at the rear, helping to pull the brushwood away and stamp out
the flames.
"Firecrackers--a box full!" cried Roger. "We must get it out!"
"A giant firecracker!" added Phil. "Big enough to blow down a house!"
And he held up the package and then made a dive for the outer air, for
the garage was now full of smoke.
Dave understood on the instant, and stooped to pick up one end of the
burning box. Roger took the other end, and thus they ran from the
garage.
Crack! crack! crack! It was the small firecrackers in the box that were
beginning to go off, the pieces flying through a lower corner of the
burning box.
"Into the back yard with it!" cried Roger. "Keep it away from the
buildings!"
"All right, this way!" answered Dave, and then the pair made for
something of an open lot behind the kitchen of the mansion and there
threw the box on the ground. Crack! bang! crack! went the firecrackers,
going off singly and in bunches, until all were shot off.
"It's a pity we didn't save 'em," said Roger, mournfully.
"It's a grand good thing they didn't go off in the garage," returned
Dave.
"Well, I saved the big cannon cracker anyway," said Phil, as he walked
up at that moment.
"Where did you put it?" questioned Roger, quickly.
"Over there, in a corner of the fence. I didn't want to take any
chances, otherwise I might have taken it to the barn."
"Better leave it outside, where it can't do any damage," said Dave.
While talking, the three boys had been running back to the garage. There
they found their chums and the men at work, including Senator Morr, all
hauling the burning brushwood away and pouring water from a small hose
on the flames. The most of the fire was out, so they found little to do.
Only one corner of the garage had been touched, and for this the senator
was thankful.
"But it was careless of you, James, to put that brushwood there, so
close to the building," he said to the gardener, "Don't do it again."
"If you please, sir, I didn't put the brushwood as close as that,"
replied the gardener, stoutly. "Somebody else did that."
"What!" cried the senator, in surprise.
"I said I didn't put the brushwood so close to the garage, sir,"
repeated the gardener. "I put it right there," and he pointed to a spot
about fifteen feet from the rear wall of the building. "I was going to
burn it up first thing in the morning,--that is if the young gentlemen
didn't want the stuff for a bonfire at night."
"But who did put the brushwood up against the garage?" demanded Senator
Morr.
"I'm sure I don't know," put in the chauffeur. "But what James says,
sir, is true--he put the heap out there--I was working around the garage
when he did it."
"Do you mean to insinuate that this fire was set by somebody?" cried the
senator, quickly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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