SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 118 | Next

Young, Clarence

"Or, the Young Derelict Hunters"

With Jerry, holding the lantern to guide them, Ned and Bob
followed. They paused now and then to listen, but the only sound they
heard was caused by the waves of the Pacific breaking on the rocky
shore, the rattle of the pebbles on the beach, and the soft swish of
the seaweed.
"It was right over there that he seemed to fall," said Ned, pointing
to indicate where he meant.
"That's where I made it out to be," agreed Jerry.
It was not easy walking, as the rocks were slippery, and some of them
were thick with weeds, for, at very high water, they, were covered by
the ocean. Several times Bob slipped and nearly fell.
"Look out," cautioned Jerry. "We don't want two wounded persons to
look after."
They paused a moment to get their breath, after a stiff bit of
climbing, and, as they stood there in the silence of the night, with
the moon fitfully showing through the clouds, they suddenly heard a
groan.
"What's that?" whispered Ned, tensely.
"It must be the man we're looking for," replied Jerry. "He's hurt.
Where did the sound come from?"
Ned pointed to a dark spot at the foot of the cliff. The three boys
hastened toward it, Jerry flashing his lantern.
When they got to the place they saw, lying huddled up on a bed of
seaweed, the form of a man.
As the light flashed on him they noticed that there was blood on his
pale face, and one arm was doubled up under him in a strange manner.
"He's dead!" whispered Bob softly,
"No; he's breathing," answered Jerry, as he bent over the man on the
rocks.


Pages:
106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130