Читать книгу Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Arizona; or, Clearing a Rival's Record онлайн
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CHAPTER II.
MAKING A “RAISE.”
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The stage that carried passengers and luggage between the two towns of Ophir and Gold Hill was a mountain wagon with a canopy top. This wagon, minus the horses and driver, was at a rest in the trail.
A woman, dressed in black and with a gray shawl over her shoulders, was sitting on the seat immediately behind the one reserved for the driver. Back of her, in the rear of the wagon box, was a shabby little hide-covered trunk.
This woman, apparently, was the only passenger. The two lads stared in the woman’s direction and continued to wonder regarding what had happened to the stage.
“Some accident, sure,” said Shoup. “The driver must have taken the team and gone after help.”
“I reckon that’s the how of it,” returned Lenning.
“Now,” his companion went on, “if we had money, Len, we could ride in that rig as far as Ophir; and then, if we had some more money, we could hire horses in Ophir and get to the gulch in that way.”
“If we had money,” came grimly from Lenning, “we wouldn’t go to the gulch at all.”