"
"My cowardice has made a dreadful mess of things in a lot of ways, hasn't
it?" demanded Mr. Bascomb bitterly.
"That's all past now, so it doesn't matter," spoke up Tom Reade. "We have
just one move more to make in this baffling game, and then I fancy we shall
have won. When Mr. Sambo Ebony, as I have nicknamed him, is safely jailed
I think we shall find ourselves undisturbed in the future. We shall then
be permitted to go ahead and finish the million-dollar breakwater as a work
and a triumph of peace."
"Every time that one of us opens his mouth," laughed Mr. Prenter, "I am
expecting to hear a big bang down by the breakwater to punctuate the
speaker's sentence. I wonder whether the scoundrels back of Sambo have
any more novel ways for setting off their big firecrackers around our
wall?"
"It might not be a bad idea for me to get out on the watch again," Tom
suggested, rising. "If I get in more trouble than I can handle I'll just
yell 'Mr. Prenter,' for I shall know that he'll be within easy hearing
distance."
The treasurer laughed, as he, too, rose.
"My being so near you before, Reade, was just accident. I was prowling
about on my own account, when you and your army friend passed me in the
deep woods.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224