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Owen Clancy's Happy Trail or, The Motor Wizard in California, a fiction by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 13. A "Wireless" For Lafe |
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_ CHAPTER XIII. A "WIRELESS" FOR LAFE Clancy was startled. He had only been half as successful as he thought he had. "Well, thunder!" he exclaimed, sitting up in bed. "Last night, Hiram, I was sure I had all the money that had been taken from Phoenix by Lafe." "This Was Bob Katz's satchel, wasn't it?" Hill asked, nodding toward the grip. "Yes." "Well, Katz said he had only severity-five hundred in it, when it was taken from him by Hogan and Wynn." "That's so," mused Clancy. "I didn't have much time last night, to reason matters out to a fine point. Half a loaf is better than no bread, though, I've heard say. I hadn't dreamed of recovering a cent of that fifteen thousand. Lafe and I are just so much ahead." A knock fell on the door. Hill answered the summons and admitted Hank Burton. "Well, by golly!" exclaimed Hill. "What's the matter?" queried Burton sourly. "I told Clancy I didn't think you'd come. Seein' you sort o' surprised me." "What made you think I wouldn't come?" demanded Burton. "Oh, the way you acted, the way you talked, and your low-down character, gen'rally." Burton flushed and scowled. Turning away from Hill he addressed himself to Clancy. "Here I am," said he. "Why did you want me to call here this morning?" "I want to give you a grubstake," answered the motor wizard. "Hiram, if there are five dry twenty-dollar bills in that heap, give them to Burton." Burton started, stared at Clancy, and then watched Hill while he knelt down and selected five twenties from the drying bills. "What are you doing this for?" asked Burton falteringly. "Just trying to give you a little boost in the right direction." "I'm not entitled to any of that money!" "I think you are. You earned something last night. Take the hundred, Burton, and see if you can't be square." The young fellow's face paled, then the color dyed his cheeks. He stood looking down at the floor, then presently lifted his head and moved slightly toward Clancy and half raised his hand. Then he paused, once more, whirled suddenly, and got out of the room as fast as he could. Hill had been watching these strange maneuvers in frank amazement. "I reckon he's locoed," he said, as soon as the door had closed behind Burton. "No," returned Clancy, "his gratitude was trying to express itself, but couldn't quite make it. He has had his lesson, Hiram, and will profit by it." "He has profited a hundred dollars' worth, anyhow," commented Hill dryly. "This Happy Trail of yours, Clancy, is a mighty queer one, seems to me. For a ways, it follows the one I took in huntin' for dad; then it branches off and points straight toward Gerald Wynn and his gang. Now here we are at the end of it--and you're seventy-five hundred to the good." Clancy laughed. "Get me a pencil and a piece of paper, Hiram," he requested. Hiram found the writing materials and Clancy wrote out the following message: "LAFE WYNN, Phoenix, Arizona: Luck. Seventy-five hundred of the missing fifteen thousand recovered. Cheer up. Happy Trail panning out better than expected. Still gunning for Hill's father. CLANCY." "Right across the street," said Clancy, "is a wireless station. Take this message over there, Hiram, and let the Hertzian waves get busy with it at once." "On the jump!" answered Hill. "Better take a five-dollar bill with you," Clancy suggested. Hill picked up the bank note. "I'd like to see that money get dry before we spend it all," he complained, and then went out with the wireless message for Lafe. "Wonder if Lafe will feel any different when he gets that?" Clancy murmured, smiling happily. "I know I'm feeling a whole lot different myself!"
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