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Castlemon, Harry, [pseud.], 1842-1915

"Frank, the Young Naturalist"

"
"All right," answered the voice. "We've been waiting an hour for that
order. This playing police is dull business."
And the smugglers heard the rattling of a chain, as if the anchor was
being pulled up.
"Tell them to make haste," whispered Frank.
"Come, hurry up there, now," shouted Ned.
"Ay, ay," was the answer.
And, in a few moments, the Sampson, propelled by four oars, shot past
them, on her way down the creek.
"That's what I call pretty well done," said Ben, as soon as the
coast-guards were out of hearing.
"I don't," said Ned. "It goes against me to fool a fellow in that way;
and my own friends, too."
The smugglers now continued on their way, and a few strong pulls
brought them within a short distance of the mouth of Ducks' Creek; and
Frank, who was at the helm, turned the boat's head toward the shore,
and, as soon as her keel touched the bottom, he and Ben sprang out,
leaving Harry to watch the prisoner.
They had landed upon Reynard's Island, and immediately started for the
opposite side, to learn, if possible, what was going on upon the
river.


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