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

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“That’s what they did,” said Bleeker.

“Then Schuster wasn’t very wide of his trail on that part of it, was he? It was the information I got from him that brought me to Mohave Cañon early this morning. I didn’t stop at Dolliver’s, but drilled past his shack like a streak. Been knocking around the hills all day, and it was less than an hour ago when I got a glimpse of the skunks I’m after. Of course, I knew the Gold Hillers wouldn’t let them stay in the camp; and I was just as sure they’d hang around here, because they’re looking for a chance at you, Merriwell, and they won’t pull their freight till they get it.”

“I’m not going to lose any sleep or miss any fun waiting for the blow to fall,” Merriwell laughed. “Come on over to the camp, Blunt. There’s a canoe race on for this afternoon and I’d like to have you help me out with a paddle.”

“Business first, pard,” answered Blunt. “I’m going to find Shoup and Lenning, get back that stolen money, and then run them out of this part of the range before they have a chance to lay hands on you.”