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

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


"You haven't had any sleep lately, have you, Dick?" inquired Tom, after
they had chatted a little longer.
"No; I haven't."
"Then you must turn in and get a few hours," proposed Reade. "I must have
a little myself, as I shall have to be up and go into court during the
coming forenoon."
"I'm wide awake now," said Harry. "So I'll sit right here on the porch
and dream of Dick and Greg, and good old Dave Darrin and Danny Dalzell,
and the good times we had in old Gridley. What time do you want to be up,
Tom?"
"Not later than eight," Reade answered.
"Trust me," said Harry promptly. Harry went to his own bedroom, pulled his
bed apart, remade it with fresh linen, and with a final grip of Dick's
hand, he left the army officer to turn in there.
At eight o'clock Hazelton called both Tom and Dick. They turned out
promptly, to find that Nicolas had laid an appetizing breakfast on the
porch.
Then Tom had to hurry over to Blixton, Dick going with him, while Hazelton
went down to the breakwater to superintend the day's work there.
Only a little time had to be spent in the justice's stuffy court. Hawkins
and his fellow gamblers and bootleggers were arraigned and held in one
thousand dollars' bail each for trial.


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