The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry BurnsSmith, Ruel Perley
General
The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns
Smith, Ruel Perley
Boats and boating -- Juvenile fiction; Camping -- Juvenile fiction
Thus perished the squire’s bulldog, unmourned, save for the squire
himself, who raged about the wharf, looking for some boy whom he might
accuse of the trick, and vowing untold vengeance upon the perpetrators of
it. But, one and all, they had wisely dispersed, the guilty and the
innocent alike, and the squire was soon left alone in his wrath.
Who had done the thing? The crowd did not know, for it had been too
excited to notice that Jack Harvey and Tim Reardon had emerged from
behind the freight-house just at the critical moment when the dog had
sprung at Henry Burns.
As for Henry Burns, he was the hero of the hour.
There had been on the whole so much excitement attending the squire’s
arrival that few had noticed a stranger who had come ashore soon after
Squire Brackett. He had not waited on the wharf, but had gone directly to
the hotel. There Henry Burns met him later; for the man sat at Colonel
Witham’s table, as that was the only one then available.
The new arrival was the sort of guest to please the colonel, for he was
extremely quiet. He walked only with the aid of a cane, and then,
apparently, with great effort, stopping frequently to rest. He told them
he had been very ill; that his health had broken down with overwork, and
he had accordingly tried cruising along the coast. His friends had left
him up the river some days before, and would call for him.
He was a man a little under middle age, of medium height and thick-set,
with black hair and a pale, smooth-shaven face. He was evidently somewhat
a man of the world and had travelled abroad, for, seated before the
fireplace in the office that evening, he talked for some time of his
travels.
But there were other things of more interest to the boarders than this
quiet, reserved stranger, who did not play cards and who hobbled about
with a cane. There was, above all, a morning paper from town, which
bristled with startling head-lines, descriptive of a robbery of the
residence of one of the richest men in the town. It told how the thieves,
three in number, had entered the house where Mr. Curtis, the owner, was
sleeping alone, in the absence of his family; how they had put a pistol
to his head and made him get up and open a safe, from which they had
taken several hundred dollars in money and a jewel-case containing a
diamond necklace and other gems to the value of several thousand dollars.
The jewels, it said, were the property of Mrs. Curtis, and most of them
had been bridal presents. A reward of $500 was offered for their return
or for information leading to the arrest of any one of the robbers.
The article stated further that Mr. Curtis was positive he could identify
the man who subsequently bound and gagged him, his mask having but
partially concealed his face. He was, he said, a man of about medium
height, with black hair, black moustache, and heavy black beard,
broad-shouldered, thick-set, and unusually active and powerful.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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