The Motor Boys Overland: A Long Trip For Fun and Fortune (Illustrated)
Fiction & Literature, Action Suspense, Literary
| Author: | Clarence Young | ISBN: | 1230000134816 |
| Publisher: | T. M. Digital Publishing | Publication: | May 20, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Clarence Young |
| ISBN: | 1230000134816 |
| Publisher: | T. M. Digital Publishing |
| Publication: | May 20, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
With the money won at the great motorcycle race the three boys purchase their touring car and commence their travels.
* * * * *
Lying on a pile of rags in one corner of the bare room, in the glare of a candle, was an old man, with matted and unkempt hair and beard. His face showed pain and suffering. His clothes were old and ragged. But what attracted the attention of the boys was the fact that he wore about his waist a wide leather belt, with several compartments or pockets in it. The pockets were open and in them, as well as scattered on the floor in front of the man, were little piles of yellow, gleaming gold.
“He’s a miner!” whispered Bob, hoarsely.
As the boys watched they heard the old man moan:
“Don’t rob me! Don’t take what little I have left! If I wasn’t sick and suffering no one would dare play this trick on Jim Nestor!”
The next instant the boys heard a sound from the farther corner of the room. Out of the semi-darkness came a figure. It stooped over the old miner. There was the sound of a blow, a deep groan—and then came darkness as the candle was extinguished.
Some one ran rapidly from the hut.
“Help! help!” called the miner, feebly. “Help! He’s robbed me!”
With the money won at the great motorcycle race the three boys purchase their touring car and commence their travels.
* * * * *
Lying on a pile of rags in one corner of the bare room, in the glare of a candle, was an old man, with matted and unkempt hair and beard. His face showed pain and suffering. His clothes were old and ragged. But what attracted the attention of the boys was the fact that he wore about his waist a wide leather belt, with several compartments or pockets in it. The pockets were open and in them, as well as scattered on the floor in front of the man, were little piles of yellow, gleaming gold.
“He’s a miner!” whispered Bob, hoarsely.
As the boys watched they heard the old man moan:
“Don’t rob me! Don’t take what little I have left! If I wasn’t sick and suffering no one would dare play this trick on Jim Nestor!”
The next instant the boys heard a sound from the farther corner of the room. Out of the semi-darkness came a figure. It stooped over the old miner. There was the sound of a blow, a deep groan—and then came darkness as the candle was extinguished.
Some one ran rapidly from the hut.
“Help! help!” called the miner, feebly. “Help! He’s robbed me!”
