Frank Allen at Gold Fork; or, Locating the lost claimForbes, Graham B.
General
Frank Allen at Gold Fork; or, Locating the lost claim
Forbes, Graham B.
Gold mines and mining -- Juvenile fiction
It was Paul this time who made the discovery. He had been unfortunate
on this visit to Rockspur, in having sprained his ankle, which was slow
to heal. This had kept him in the background at times when his two
chums were meeting all sorts of lively adventures.
Frank and Lanky had retired to the room which they shared in common,
and chose to confer regarding what they should take with them and what
leave behind. Paul was in the bunk-house listening-in, there being
something in the air that night which he particularly wished to hear.
"Well, here's our corrected list," Lanky announced, holding up a bit
of paper. "I reckon we've cut it down as close to the bone as we can,
and everything I've not crossed off we believe we'll need. Dad will
do the same, for I happen to know he always used to travel light when
years ago he went into camp. But here comes Paul, so now we can hop
into bed and get some sleep.
"Oh! will you?" said Paul, entering in time to overhear this last
remark from Lanky. "As our old chum, Jack Eastwick, used always to say,
'maybe, maybe not.' I'm bringing you news that may make you sit up and
take notice. That sly little rascal with the bushel head is skulking
around again! I glimpsed him while crossing over from the bunk-house!"
CHAPTER VI
ON GUARD
"Douse the glim, first of all, Lanky!" said Frank Allen without a
second's hesitation. Frank seemed always ready for action, which was
one of his strong points.
Lanky thereupon blew out the lamp, and the three boys found themselves
in vague darkness. The late rising moon was above the horizon, but the
western side of the ranch house was wrapped in the shadows.
"Now, let's keep mum and watch," whispered Frank. "He'll think the last
comer has turned in, and the coast will soon be clear. Pretty near time
for the boys to shut up shop over there in the radio den."
"Getting ready to wind-up when I left," murmured Paul. "Lige has a
rule, you know, that every puncher must hit the hay by eleven, so's to
be up with the sunrise."
Silence fell upon them.
Minutes crept on as the boys crouched by the window, eager for
the first glimpse of the strange little unknown man whose former
mysterious actions had so engrossed their curiosity.
Now and then one of them would stir, or it might be heave a heavy sigh,
as though this pent-up enthusiasm was making serious inroads on his
patience. The cramped position in which they maintained their vigil
added to the discomfort of the situation.
For some little time the boys heard the voices and subdued laughter of
the punchers, as some of them came out, to wander over in the direction
of the horse corral, in order to have a last look, so as to make sure
all was right in that quarter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account