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

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“Come on, Clan!” Frank called. “Here’s something we’ve got to look into—and we must be quick about it.”

Clancy jumped for the canoe as though touched by a live wire. Through his befogged brain an inkling of his chum’s purpose had drifted.

In almost less time than it takes to tell it, the canoe was racing across the water, Merry in the bow and Clancy in the stern. Other canoes followed, for a feeling that something more of a portentous nature was about to happen ran through every lad’s nerves.

When well into the river, Frank could look ahead, as the vista opened out above the Point, and see the stolen canoe, with the two thieves aboard. Shoup was in the stern and Lenning at the bow. Both were using their paddles like mad, evidently trying to get across to the other bank.

“Get busy, Clan!” called Merriwell quietly, but compellingly. “I think we can overhaul those fellows before they land.”

“We’ll have to go some, if we do,” was the answer.

“I guess we’ve shown that we can do that, all right.”