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Ralphson, G. Harvey (George Harvey), 1879-1940

"Boy Scouts on Motorcycles With the Flying Squadron"

The boy thought he recognized a
significant signal as the fellow disappeared,
The lads never knew exactly how it all occurred. They only knew at the
time that there was a quick rush, a flash of weapons, a desperate
struggle, then momentary unconsciousness.
They decided afterwards that their enemies had rushed upon them from
every direction, and that the sneering face of Rae had gloated over
their capture.
"Don't injure them," Rae ordered, as ropes were knotted about the wrists
and ankles of the prisoners. "I'll go out now and see that the two
Black Bears," with a double sneer in his voice, "are taken into camp in
short order. Bad climate, this, for school boys who imitate wild
animals," he added, with a malicious smile. "A bad climate."
"You're all right!" Jimmie called out, as Rae paused in the doorway for
an instant. "You're all right! But let me give you a pointer. You
keep the Bears and Wolves you get in strong cages! If they get out,
they'll eat you up!"
"Oh! I'll pull their fangs!" laughed the other, and then he was gone.
"This China seems to be a nice country," Jimmie said, turning to Ned.
"Some people would break our crusts in instead of tyin' us up."
"I rather think," Ned replied, "that they have planned to do that a
little later on. We ought never to have taken such chances."
"You can't have a chicken pie," grinned Jimmie, "unless some one kills a
chicken! No more can you find out what's goin' on by sittin' down in an
old house an' waitin' for someone to bring you the news in a New York
newspaper! We had to keep cases on this chap, didn't we?"
"I think you would talk slang if you were drowning," Ned smiled.


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