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Young, Clarence

"Or, the Young Derelict Hunters"


"Well, if we--" began Jerry but he could not finish.
He let go his hold of the scientist's arm, and Ned at the same time
loosened his grip on the supposed burglar's leg. The professor arose,
smoothed out his rumpled clothing, and remarked in a sad tone:
"I suppose it's got away, now."
"What?" asked Ned.
"The horned toad. I was chasing one through the garden by the light of
my portable electric lantern. I cornered him under the window, and I
was just casting the net over him when you jumped on me. The toad got
away. It's too bad, but of course you didn't know it. I must continue
my hunt, for at last I am really on the track."
"Whar am dat bug'lar man?" suddenly demanded Ponto, opening the side
door a crack, and thrusting a gun out. "Whar am he? Jest hold him up
agin this yeah shootin' iron, young gem'mens, an' Ponto'll make him
wish he done gone stayed home? Whar am he?"
"Lookout for that gun," cautioned Ned. "It might be loaded. There's no
burglar, Ponto. It's all a mistake. It was Professor Snodgrass,
hunting for horned toads."
"Yes," added the scientist. "I heard they were always out just before
a storm, and so I went after them. I saw a fine specimen, but he got
away. However I shall catch him."
"No bug'lar, eh?" mused Ponto, in disappointed tones. "Golly, it
shorely am lucky fo' him dat dere ain't. I shorely would hab plugged
him full ob holes, dat's a fact!"
By this time Mr. Seabury had dressed and come down, and the girls were
calling in anxious voices to know what all the excitement was about.


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