A succession of
electrical storms which for days had swept the countryside in rapid
succession apparently had come to an end. The clouds were lifting, and
there was more than a promise of early sunlight to brighten the
Saturday holiday.
The boys looked hopefully at each other.
"Looks better than it has for days, Frank."
"That's right."
A few moments more they chatted hopefully about the prospects, then
re-entered the station.
Frank Merrick and Bob Temple were chums, a little under 18 years of
age each. It was their bitterest regret that they had been too young
to take any part in the World War some years before. Frank was dark,
curly-haired, of medium height and slim, but strong and wiry. Bob was
fair and sleepy-eyed, a fraction under six feet tall and weighed 180
pounds. A third chum and the leader of the trio was Jack Hampton, 19
years of age. He had gone to New Mexico several months before with his
father, a mining engineer.
All three boys were sons of wealthy parents, with country estates near
the far end of Long Island. Frank's parents, in fact, were dead, and
he lived with the Temples. Mr. Temple was his guardian and
administrator of the large fortune left by his father, who had been
Mr.
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