Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal , livre ebook

The Floating Press - Henry Goldfrap John

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

110 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

Get set for pulse-pounding adventure in this classic action novel. An intrepid group of young explorers pitch in to help out when trouble arises at the Panama Canal. Whether you're a current or former Boy Scout or simply a fan of golden-era action-adventure tales, this engaging page-turner is sure to delight.

Sujets

Children's

Informations

Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mars 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775562351
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE PANAMA CANAL
* * *
JOHN HENRY GOLDFRAP

*
The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal First published in 1913 ISBN 978-1-77556-235-1 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
Chapter I - Boy Scouts to the Rescue Chapter II - An Angry Farmer Chapter III - On a Mission Chapter IV - Some Up-To-Date Advertising Chapter V - A Big Surprise Chapter VI - Baseball Chapter VII - A Test for the Eagles Chapter VIII - Skill vs. Muscle Chapter IX - Fire! Chapter X - A Scout Hero Chapter XI - The Fire Test Chapter XII - In Peril of His Life Chapter XIII - The Enemy's Move Chapter XIV - A Novel Proposal Chapter XV - Off for the Isthmus Chapter XVI - Something About the Canal Chapter XVII - At Old Panama Chapter XVIII - Between Earth and Sky Chapter XIX - The Gatun Dam Chapter XX - A Dynamite Volcano Chapter XXI - "Run for Your Lives!" Chapter XXII - The Boys Meet an Old Acquaintance Chapter XXIII - Along the Chagres Chapter XXIV - The Trackless Jungle Chapter XXV - A Chapter of Accidents Chapter XXVI - The Ruined City Chapter XXVII - "Be Prepared"
Chapter I - Boy Scouts to the Rescue
*
Farmer Hiram Applegate had just finished breakfast. For this reason,perhaps, he felt exceptionally good-humored. Even the news he had read inhis morning paper (of the day before) to the effect that his petabomination and aversion, The Boy Scouts, had held a successful andpopular review in New York and received personal commendation from thePresident failed to shake his equanimity.
Outside the farmhouse the spring sun shone bright and warm. The air wascrisp, and odorous with the scent of apple blossoms. Robins twitteredcheerily, hens clucked and now and then a blue bird flashed among theorchard trees.
As Hiram stepped out on his "vendetta," as he called his verandah—or, touse the old-fashioned word and the better one, "porch"—he was joined bya rather heavy-set youth with small, shifty eyes and a sallow skin whichgave the impression of languishing for soap and water. A suit of loudpattern, new yellow boots with "nobby" toes, and a gaudy necktie did notadd to young Jared Applegate's general appearance.
"Pop," he began, after a glance at the old man's crabbed and wrinkledfeatures, just then aglow with self-satisfaction, "Pop, how about thatmoney I spoke about?"
Old Applegate stared at his offspring from under his heavy, iron-graybrows.
"A fine time to be askin' fer money!" he snorted indignantly, "you justback frum Panamy—under a cloud, too, and yet you start a pesterin' mefer money as ef it grew on trees."
"What d'ye want it fer, hey?" he went on after a pause. "More Bye Scutnonsense?"
Jared shook his head as if denying some discreditable imputation.
"I've had nothing to do with the Boy Scouts since the day I was kickedout of—that is, since I left the Black Wolf troop in New York."
"Dum glad of it, though you never tole me what you quit for," mutteredthe old man.
"But to get back to that money," said Jared; "as I told you when I gotback from the Isthmus, I need it. Need it bad, too, or I wouldn't askyou."
"Makes no diff'rence. What d'ye want it fer,—hey?" he repeated, comingback to his original question.
Jared decided that there was nothing for it but to tell the truth.
"To go over what I told you the other night once more, I'm in debt. DebtsI ran up on the Isthmus," was the rejoinder. "A chap can't live downthere for nothing you know, and—"
"By heck! You got a dern good salary as Mr. Mainwaring's sec'ty, didn'tyer, an' a chance ter learn engin-e-ring thrun in. You git fired fermisbehavin' yerself an' then yer come down on the old man fer money. Iain't goin' ter stand it, I ain't, and that's flat!"
The old man knocked the ashes out of his half-smoked pipe withunnecessary violence. Jared, eying him askance, saw that his father wasworking himself up into what Jared termed "a tantrum." Taking anothertack, he resumed.
"Sho, pop! It ain't as if you weren't going to get it back. And there'llbe interest at six per cent., too."
This was touching old Applegate on a tender point. If rumor in and aboutHampton spoke correctly, the old man had made most of his large fortune,not so much by farming, but by running, at ruinous rates, a sort ofprivate bank.
"Wa'al," he said, his hard, rugged old face softening the least bit, "uvcourse you've tole me all that; but what you h'aint tole me is, how yer agoin' ter git ther money back,—an' the interest."
He looked cunningly at his son as he spoke. Jared hesitated an instantbefore he replied. Then he said boldly enough:—
"I can't tell you just what the business enterprise is that I expect togo into shortly. I'm—I'm under a sort of promise not to, you see. But ifeverything goes right, I'll be worth a good round sum before long."
"Promises ain't security," retorted the old man warily. "I—GeeWhitakers! Thar's that spotted hawg out agin!"
Across the dusty road the animal in question was passing as the farmer'seyes fell on it. In the center of the track it paused and began rootingabout, grunting contentedly at its liberty.
At the same moment a humming sound, almost like the drone of a big bumblebee, came out of the distance. As he heard the peculiar drone, a quickglance of recognition flashed across old Applegate's face.
"It's that pesky Mainwaring gal an' her 'lectric auto!" he explodedvehemently. "That makes the third time in ther last two weeks that Jake'sbin out when she come along. Ther fust time she knocked him over, thersecond time she knocked him over, an' now—"
A smart-looking little electric runabout, driven by a pretty young girlin motoring costume, whizzed round the corner. The ill-fated Jake lookedup from his rooting as the car came dashing on. Possibly the recollectionof those other two narrow escapes was upon him. At any rate, with ascared grunt and an angry squeal, he whisked his stump of a curly tail inthe air and dashed for the picket fence in front of the Applegate place.
But either Jake was too slow, or the electric was too fast. Just as thegirl gave the steering wheel of the auto a quick twist to avoid the pig,one of the forewheels struck the luckless Jake "astern," as sailors wouldsay.
With an agonized wail Jake sailed through the air a few feet and then,alighting on his feet, galloped off unhurt but squealing as if he hadbeen mortally injured.
"Goodness," exclaimed the girl alarmedly, and then, "gracious!"
The quick twist of the wheel had caused the car to give a jump and a skidand land in the ditch, where it came to a standstill. Farmer Applegate,rage tinting his face the color of a boiled beet, came storming down thepath.
"This is the time I got yer, hey?" he shouted at the alarmed occupant ofthe auto. "That makes three times you run over Jake. You got away themother times, but I got yer nailed now. Kaint git yer car out uv therditch, hey? Wa'al, it'll stay thar till yer pay up."
"I'm—I'm dreadfully sorry," stammered the girl, "really I had nointention of hurting—er—Jake. In fact, he doesn't seem to be hurt atall."
There appeared to be good reason for such a supposition. Jake, at themoment, was engaged in combat over a pile of corn fodder with several ofhis fellows.
"Humph! Prob'ly hurt internal," grunted the farmer. "Anyhow, it's timeyou bubblists was taught a lesson."
"Oh, of course I'm willing to pay," cried the girl, and out came a daintyhand-bag. "Er—how much will satisfy Jake's—I mean your—feelings?"
The old farmer was quick to catch the note of amusement in the girl'svoice.
"You won't mend matters by bein' sassy," he growled; "besides, your popfired my boy down on the Isthmus an' I ain't feelin' none too good towardyer."
"I have nothing to do with my father's affairs," said the girl coldly,noting out of the corner of her eye Jared's figure slinking around theside of the porch; "how much do you want to help me get my car out of theditch, for that's really what it amounts to, you know?"
Ignoring the quiet sarcasm in her voice, old Applegate's face took on itscrafty expression.
"Wa'al, it's three times now you've run over Jake. Say five dollars eachtime,—that ud be yer fine for overspeedin', anyhow,—that makes itfifteen dollars."
"Fifteen dollars!" The girl's voice showed her amazement at such afigure.
"It ort'er be twenty," snorted old Applegate; "thar's ther injury toJake's feelin's. You bang over him at sixty mile an hour an' scare himout'n all his fat an' six months' growth. Fifteen dollars is cheap,an'—you don't go till yer pay up, neither."
"Why, it's simply extortion. I'll pay no such sum. Send your bill to myfather. He'll settle it. And now help me out of this ditch, if youplease."
"Now, don't you git het up, miss. Thar's a speed law on Long Island, an'by heck, you pay er I'll hev yer up afore the justice. Lucindy!" heraised his voice in a call for his wife; Jared had vanished. Aslovenly-looking woman, wiping her hands on a gingham apron, appeared onthe porch.
"Lucindy, how many miles an hour? Jake's bin run over agin," he addedsuggestively.
"Wa'al," said Lucindy judicially, "it looked like sixty; but I reckinh'it warn't more'n twenty-five."
"Humph!" snorted Applegate triumphantly, "an' ther speed limit'sfifteen."
"Why, I wasn't going more than ten miles!" cried the girl, flushing withindignation.
"Huh! Tell that to ther justice. I'll git my son to push yer machineout'n ther ditch an' then I'll hop in aside yer an' we'll drive intotown."
"You'll do no such thin