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TOM WANTS EXCITEMENT   “Have you anything special to do to-night, Ned?” asked Tom Swift, the well-known inventor, as he paused in front of his chum’s window, in the Shopton National Bank. “No, nothing in particular,” replied the bank clerk, as he stacked up some bundles of bills. “Why do you ask?” “I wanted you to come over to the house for a while.” “Going to have a surprise... more...

CHAPTER I TOM READE HAS A "BRAND-NEW ONE" "Hello, Timmy!" "'Lo, Reade." "Warm night," observed Tom Reade, as he paused not far from the street corner to wipe his perspiring face and neck with his handkerchief. "Middling warm," admitted Timmy Finbrink. Yet the heat couldn't have made him extremely uncomfortable, for Tom Reade, amiable and budding senior in the Gridley High School, smiled good naturedly as he stood surveying as much as he... more...

CHAPTER I. THREE YEARS AFTER. "This is the spot, Bessie," said Levi Fairfield, as he paused on the bank of the brook which flows into the bay near Mike's Point. "But what was the thing you made?" asked Bessie Watson, as she looked with interest at the place indicated, though she could not see anything very remarkable, or even strange. "It was a young saw-mill," laughed Levi. "It rested on those flat stones you see there; but the dam is... more...

A CHANCE "OUT" "You are so crazy as a loon! Boys? Boys to such a drip dake? Nein!" Von Hofe excitedly pounded the table until the attendants at the Explorers' Club stared. Then he leaned back determinedly and lighted his meerschaum. The lean, bronzed man who sat opposite pushed away his maps with a smile. "You misunderstand, von Hofe. I know both these boys personally and vouch for them. You have agreed that this is to be no milk-and-water... more...

CHAPTER I A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR "Boys! B-o-y-s!" There was no response to the imperative summons. Professor Zepplin sat up in his cot, listening intently. Something had awakened him suddenly, but just what he was unable to decide. "Be quiet over there, young men," he admonished, adding in a lower tone, "I'm sure I heard some one moving about." The camp of the Pony Rider Boys lay wrapped in darkness, the camp-fire having long since died out.... more...


CHAPTER I WESTWARD, HO! "Ow, Wow, Wow, Wow! Y-E-O-W!" Tad Butler, who was industriously chopping wood at the rear of the woodshed of his home, finished the tough, knotted stick before looking up. The almost unearthly chorus of yells behind him had not even startled the boy or caused him to cease his efforts until he had completed what he had set out to do. This finished, Tad turned a smiling face to the three brown-faced young men who were... more...

IN THE LAND OF THE COWBOY "What's that?" "Guns, I reckon." "Sounds to me as if the town were being attacked. Just like war time, isn't it?" "Never having been to war, I can't say. But it's a noise all right." The freckle-faced boy, sitting on his pony with easy confidence, answered his companion's questions absently. After a careless glance up the street, he turned to resume his study of the noisy crowds that were surging back and forth... more...

CHUNKY'S NEW IDEA Three of the ponies, they found, had been knocked down and so severely shocked that they were only just beginning to regain consciousness. "Why didn't you tell us?" demanded Ned, turning on Stacy savagely. "You wouldn't let me. Maybe next time I've got an idea, you'll stop and listen." Kris Kringle's face wore a broad grin. "Master Stacy is right. He tried hard enough to tell us," he said. Chunky was humming blithely as... more...

CHAPTER ITHROUGH ENCHANTING WATERS “Captain, who are the four silent men leaning over the rail on the other side of the boat?” asked Tad Butler. “I have been wondering about them almost ever since we left Vancouver. They don’t seem to speak to a person, and seldom to each other, though somehow they appear to be traveling in company. They act as if they were afraid someone would recognize them. I am sure they aren’t... more...

CHAPTER I THE PRINCIPAL HEARS SOMETHING ABOUT "PENNIES" Clang! "Attention, please." The barely audible droning of study ceased promptly in the big assembly room of the Gridley High School. The new principal, who had just stepped into the room, and who now stood waiting behind his flat-top desk on the platform, was a tall, thin, severe-looking man of thirty-two or three. For this year Dr. Carl Thornton, beloved principal for a half-score of... more...