"Why, Lassie," said her father, "with a bunch of harum scarum boys to
look after, my hands will be full enough."
"Yes, you think they're just boys," flashed his young daughter. "But
you wait and see. They'll be taking care of you. Just you wait and
see. Frank is awfully clever."
"Frank?" said Mr. Temple teasingly, with a meaning look.
Della flushed, and made an excuse to leave the room a moment later.
"I wish, George, that you wouldn't tease her about Frank," said Mrs.
Temple. "She's such a child."
"Yes," said Mr. Temple, thoughtfully. "I suppose so. But," he added,
"I'm glad she likes Frank."
CHAPTER VIII
HELD FOR RANSOM
"Great Scott, Jack, how different you look. What a peach of a get-up."
The Temples, father and son, and Frank Merrick stood on the gravel-bed
outside the little wooden box doing duty as station at Ransome, New
Mexico. The transcontinental flier which had dropped them, was
dwindling in the distance. Jack Hampton, whom the chums and Mr. Temple
had crossed the country from New York to join, was in the center of
the group. Greetings had been exchanged, they had all slapped each
other on the back indiscriminately and enthusiastically, and now Bob
Temple stood off at arm's length to admire his chum.
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