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Hancock, H. Irving (Harrie Irving), 1868-1922

"Or, The Dread Mystery of the Million Dollar Breakwater"

It enabled him to hide his head within
fifteen feet of the handle of the magneto.
A soft, southerly wind blew in from the Gulf. As long as he could Reade
fought drowsiness. Again and again he opened his eyes with a start.
"I mustn't do this," Tom told himself angrily. "No gentleman will go to
sleep at the switch---when it's his train that is coming!"
Yet still he found himself nodding. Had he deemed it safe Tom would have
sprung up and walked about briskly. But this, he knew, was to invite
being discovered by the returning negro.
So, at last, despite himself, Tom fell asleep.
How much time had passed he never knew. At last, however, he awoke with a
start. Reproachfully he rubbed his eyes.
"Not a bit too soon!" he muttered, as his ears caught sound of an
approaching step, and his eyes showed him the hulking form of the massive
foe. "Here comes my black man!"


CHAPTER XIV
THE BLACK MAN'S TURN

Closer to the earth Tom tried to burrow. As to a plan, Tom Reade had none
now, save to watch, and, if possible, to learn something that he did not
already know.
Soft-footed, despite his great bulk, the negro approached with an air of
little concern.


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