The Boy Scouts On The Range
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Оглавление
Goldfrap John Henry. The Boy Scouts On The Range
CHAPTER I. ROB SURPRISES A COW-PUNCHER
CHAPTER II. NEWS OF THE MOQUIS
CHAPTER III. THE DESERT WATER HOLE
CHAPTER IV. SILVER TIP APPEARS
CHAPTER V. AT THE HARKNESS RANCH
CHAPTER VI. A BOY SCOUT "BRONCHO BUSTER."
CHAPTER VII. THE STAMPEDE AT THE FAR PASTURE
CHAPTER VIII. HEMMED IN BY THE HERD
CHAPTER IX. THE HOME OF A VANISHED RACE
CHAPTER X. THE GHOST OF THE CAVE DWELLING
CHAPTER XI. CAPTURED BY MOQUIS
CHAPTER XII. TUBBY'S PERIL
CHAPTER XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED
CHAPTER XIV. A TOBOGGAN TO DISASTER
CHAPTER XV. WHAT BECAME OF THE SCOUT?
CHAPTER XVI. BLINKY SPOILS A SOMBRERO
CHAPTER XVII. IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE GRIZZLY
CHAPTER XVIII. THE INDIAN AGENT
CHAPTER XIX. BLACK CLOUD'S VISIT
CHAPTER XX. THE WATCHERS OF THE TRAIL
CHAPTER XXI. THE MAVERICK RAID
CHAPTER XXII. CLARK JENNINGS GETS A SURPRISE
CHAPTER XXIII. WORSHIPPERS OF THE SNAKE
CHAPTER XXIV. BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE
Отрывок из книги
"Wow!" yelled the onlookers, as Clark's body struck the floor with a resounding thwack.
Jess was in an agony of excitement over the sudden downfall of his friend. He was just about to hurl himself upon Rob when a sudden detaining arm fell on his with a heavy pressure.
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Closer and closer grew the dust cloud, and presently, from its yellow swirls, emerged the heads of the leaders of an eight-mule team. Behind them lumbered a big, broad-tired wagon, from the bed of which a high seat was reared like a watch tower. By the driver's side was a long iron foot brake. As the team approached the bank of the sandy little dried-up river, where the road took a dip, the driver placed his foot on the brake and a loud screeching and groaning resulted, as the big wagon, with the hind wheels locked, slid down the far bank. As the front wheels thundered across the rough bridge above the thin thread of luke-warm water, the heads of the first mules emerged over the top of the bank nearest the hotel.
"Mountain style," commented the long, lanky cow-puncher admiringly, as the driver, a tall, sun-burned lad of about Rob's age, whirled a long whip three or four times round his head and concluded the flourish with a loud "crack" as sharp and penetrating as a pistol shot.
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