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H. Richard Boehm
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H. Richard Boehm
PROLOGUE Grierson refilled the magazine of his rifle carefully—when you are dealing with South American patriots it is better to take no chances, even though the enemy has retreated—then he wiped a couple of half-dried blood spots off his cheek, and, after that, went over to where lay the body of the man from whom that same blood had spurted. For a full minute he stood very still, gazing with...
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H. Richard Boehm
CHAPTER I DAVE AND HIS CHUMS “I say, Dave, here’s an odd piece of news.” “An odd piece of news, Roger? What about?” “A wild man in the woods back of Oak Hall,” answered Roger Morr, who held a letter in his hand. “Queerest thing you ever heard of.” “I should say it was, if it’s about a wild man,” returned Dave Porter. “Who sent that letter?” “Shadow Hamilton.” “Maybe...
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