Читать книгу Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Arizona; or, Clearing a Rival's Record онлайн

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Hotchkiss, another lad whom Frank and his chums knew pretty well, took charge of the three horses, and led them away to be picketed with the rest of the live stock. Bleeker, who seemed to be in charge of the camping party, led the visitors into the camp and showed them their quarters.

“We’re all mighty glad you’ve come,” said Bleeker heartily. “We’re going to have great times while you’re here. Didn’t see anything of Lenning and Shoup on the road, did you?”

“Lenning and Shoup?” returned Merriwell, startled. “No, we didn’t see them, but we hear they were at Dolliver’s late yesterday. Have they been here?”

“They were here last night, and I ordered them out of camp. Nearly had a fight getting them to go, but we got rid of them. Last night, though, one of our canoes was stolen. Of course,” he finished, “it’s not much of a guess who took it. Shoup’s a thief, and Lenning isn’t much better. We’ll get that canoe back, though, you can bet on that.”

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“Why the deuce did Lenning and Shoup come in this direction?” asked Ballard, in a puzzled tone. “If they’d done anything crooked on the trail from Ophir to Gold Hill, they would be getting away from company instead of hunting for it.”