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Gerald Breckenridge
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CHAPTER I TWO MYSTERIES “Not much like last summer, is it, Jack?” “Not much, Frank.” “No Mexican bandits. No Chinese bad men. No dens in Chinatown. Say, Jack, remember how you felt when we were licked in our attempt to escape from that dive out in San Francisco? Boy, that was the time when things looked mighty blue. Jack?” No answer. “Jack?” In a louder tone. Still no answer. Frank...
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CHAPTER I A CRY IN THE AIR "Well, Bob, here we are again. And no word from Jack yet." "That's right, Frank. But the weather has been bad for sending so great a distance for days. When these spring storms come to an end the static will lift and well stand a better chance to hear from him." "Righto, Bob. Then, too, the Hamptons may not have finished their station on time."...
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