Bob, the photographer

“I don’t believe a word on it!” growled Joel Carrow. “You are always leavin’ things layin’ round loose. Go an’ git it, an’ be quick about it, or you’ll git your hide tanned well...

Toward the middle of the afternoon, Bob and Frank Landes came to a picturesque mountain stream, flanked on one side by sloping hills and on the other by a jagged cliff fifty or...

“See here, Casco, I want you to shut up. I have not been following you, and I am not in the habit of being addressed as you have addressed me. The quicker you get out of here th...

He threw Bob on the ground, and kicked him heavily in the side. The youth attempted to scramble up, but the Irishman kicked him again, and then Bob was glad enough to lie still.

For the moment Bob could not realize his awful peril, but when he saw the tiny flame feeding on the loose hay, and creeping steadily toward him, he gave a cry of horror.

He made another lunge, and had not Bob jumped to one side, the tines would have entered his body. The youth watched his chance, and doubled on the farmer. The wagon was a good b...

For the moment it looked as if Bob and Frank would be crushed under the ponderous feet of the elephant. The beast was thoroughly enraged over the way in which the smashed camera...

Bidwell was quickly recognized by the captain of the police, and his capture was considered an important one, especially when Bob related the particulars of the jewel robbery. A...

It was quite dark by this time, and perched on the top of the fence Bob could see little or nothing. He listened intently, but nothing save the hissing of escaping steam reached...

“What’s the use? He would find some excuse, and I would only get into trouble. No; after all, I’ll simply do what I can alone, and let the rest go.”

“Mine is Walter Anderson. I came to Stampton from Buffalo a month ago, and I’ve been making pretty much of a fool of myself ever since. But I wish I had my money back.”

Barker caught hold of Bob on one side, and Casco on the other, and between them they carried the youth up two flights of narrow stairs, and into a sloping room under the roof.

The cell in which Bob was confined was provided with a rough sleeping-bench, but though the youth lay down he did not slumber, but lay awake thinking over his troubles.

In vain Bob struggled. He could not loosen that nervous hold the lunatic had taken, and now his head began to swim, and strange lights began to flicker before his eyes.

Bob did not know if he was walking on stone or the air when he left the Maverick mansion. To him it seemed as if the vista of good fortune had opened to its very widest limit.

Bob was used to the water. Indeed the only recreation he had had while living with old Peter Thompson was to go swimming in the river behind the house, and gunning in the woods.

“If I had an axe, I would knock him on the head,” said Bob, as he again dodged. “There goes the satchel. I’ll bet he smashed every bottle in it.”

Bob had no great feeling of love for the miserly farmer who had so misused him, yet he did not intend to stand calmly by and see Joel Carrow done out of his money.

Bob fancied he recognized the voice, but he was not sure. He renewed his struggle and had almost succeeded in breaking away when the swindler hit him a blow in the neck that daz...

To a person not accustomed to outdoor life, walking over the rough fields would have been no easy task, but Bob was used to it, and he easily kept up with Hicks’s long strides.

He darted a swift glance around the interior of the room, and was even more taken back than before by beholding Casco and Barker seated at the table, a bottle between them.

The young photographer did not have the chance to look back at his pursuers. He had one foot on the iron step of the car, and, though the train was going at a slow rate of speed...

Casco’s face fell when he heard that Bob had help close at hand. He made another effort to push the young photographer off, and had almost succeeded when the train-hand appeared.

Bob saw that the window of the room was directly over the one story addition in the rear. He wondered if he could not get up to it and find out what was going on within.

Down the stairs went Frank and Bob, two steps at a time, with Casco and Raymond in close pursuit. The scar-faced man began to yell, but the hotel proprietor stopped him.

With a desperate spring the young man caught one of the limbs and drew himself up just as one of the blood-hounds reached the spot where he had been standing.

“Yes, I must go back,” said Frank. “What would the firm say if the money was lost? They would most likely discharge me, and maybe say I gambled it away, or something like that.”

“By jinks! So he had the cheek to come back. Stay here till I go after him.” With his head still stinging from the blow the scar-faced man had dealt him, the young photographer...

Old Blake pointed with his long, bony finger toward one of the other islands. Then he tried to rise, but fell back in a faint in Bob’s arms. By this time Frank had arrived on th...

Never had Bob listened to words that interested him more. Here, at last, was news concerning his identity. His real name was Bob Perry, and he was the son of an officer. It was...

But Frank urged him to follow, and to please his companion Bob did so. As Barker and his companions were on foot they soon outdistanced the crowd, and then Bob called Frank to h...

With something of a sinking heart Bob turned about and, with Barker on one side of him and Grogan on the other, walked back and entered the sitting-room, Horning following.

He continued to swing the red light until he heard a shrill shriek of the whistle and saw the fire fly from the wheels of the locomotive as the engine was reversed, and then he...