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vladislav sogan
The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition
The Radio Boys Rescue the Lost Alaska Expedition
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• Illustrated book
• Images has been resized and optimized for the Nook
• Table of contents with working links to chapters is included
• The book has been corrected for spelling and grammatical errors
• New and improved version
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It was Frank who asked the question, and he sat on a heap of luggage on the beach at Nome, with Jack and Bob beside him looking alternately at the mountain beyond the Alaskan outpost and at Mr. Hampton deep in conversation with a short sturdy figure of a man, clad in khaki breeches, high leather boots and a flannel shirt, a short distance away. The figure was that of Tom Farnum, scout of the independent oil interests at Nome.
It was Summer, and Summer in Alaska as the boys were beginning to realize meant hot weather, indeed. All had their coats off, and were perspiring. Only an hour before they had been put ashore by the steamer from Seattle, and Mr. Hampton had left them on the beach with their luggage while he went in search of Tom Farnum, who had failed to meet them at the landing as they had expected.
“Where do we go from here?” Jack repeated Frank’s question. “Well, if you ask me, almost any place would be better than Nome.”
He looked with disfavor at the little town sprawling at the base of the mountain.
“Not just what I expected,” he said. “I’ve heard of Nome all my life, it seems, and now, just look at it. Why, it’s hardly a spot on the map.”
“But what a history it has had, Jack,” said Frank. “Don’t judge by appearances too much. Remember this town has seen the Gold Rush.”
“I wonder what Dad is talking about,” said Jack, ignoring Frank’s remark.
“Probably discussing how soon we can get away,” said big Bob, speaking for the first time. “At any rate,” he added, “I see your father and his companion pointing to that gasoline schooner off shore.”
At this moment, their doubts were resolved, for Mr. Hampton and his companion ended their conversation and approached the boys.
“Well, boys, we’ll soon be under way,” said Mr. Hampton. Whereupon he introduced Farnum all around. The latter was a prepossessing man with a weather-beaten face and a grizzled mustache, above which jutted a promontory of a nose between deep-set, wide, blue eyes.
“That is our schooner out there,” Mr. Hampton continued, indicating the boat to which Bob earlier had drawn attention. “Mr. Farnum,” he added, “has stated casually around Nome that he is taking a party of hunters up the MacKenzie. We’ll get away at once, as nothing is to be gained by a stay in Nome and as, furthermore, we wish to avoid inquiries into our aims. The story Farnum has told will do well enough.”
Farnum nodded.
“Just a white lie,” he said, grinning. “No use letting the curious know all your secrets.”
Then followed an hour of brisk work, at the end of which period the luggage was safely stowed aboard the gasoline schooner, and its screw began to turn. As the little vessel began to throb and draw away from Nome, the boys leaned over side and watched the prospect dwindle in the distance until the houses seemed like toys and the mountainside like a painted backdrop in the theater.
“Hurray,” cried Bob, at last, “we’re off for the Great Unknown.”
“Yes,” agreed Frank, “I really feel that way, too. All the way up from Seattle, I felt as if I were nothing more than a tourist, traveling a beaten route. But this, well, this is different.”
After that they were silent a long time, while the schooner shook and throbbed and steadily pushed its way up the coast, each boy busy with his thoughts. Yet those thoughts were much the same.
Following that eventful discussion in Seattle, on their return from South America and their adventures there in The Enchanted City of the Incas, they had gone back to Yale and studied hard to make up for lost time in the first half of the term. All three were clever and had the knack of concentrating at their tasks, and all as a consequence had succeeded in making up back work in classroom and lecture. As a result they had entered the succeeding term, or at least were prepared to do so, without conditions. This was a matter for congratulation, indeed, and deserving of especial reward.
That reward had been theirs. For Mr. Hampton and Mr. Temple both decided that their respective sons and Frank, Mr. Temple’s ward, should be permitted to accompany Mr. Hampton on his...
• Illustrated book
• Images has been resized and optimized for the Nook
• Table of contents with working links to chapters is included
• The book has been corrected for spelling and grammatical errors
• New and improved version
•
It was Frank who asked the question, and he sat on a heap of luggage on the beach at Nome, with Jack and Bob beside him looking alternately at the mountain beyond the Alaskan outpost and at Mr. Hampton deep in conversation with a short sturdy figure of a man, clad in khaki breeches, high leather boots and a flannel shirt, a short distance away. The figure was that of Tom Farnum, scout of the independent oil interests at Nome.
It was Summer, and Summer in Alaska as the boys were beginning to realize meant hot weather, indeed. All had their coats off, and were perspiring. Only an hour before they had been put ashore by the steamer from Seattle, and Mr. Hampton had left them on the beach with their luggage while he went in search of Tom Farnum, who had failed to meet them at the landing as they had expected.
“Where do we go from here?” Jack repeated Frank’s question. “Well, if you ask me, almost any place would be better than Nome.”
He looked with disfavor at the little town sprawling at the base of the mountain.
“Not just what I expected,” he said. “I’ve heard of Nome all my life, it seems, and now, just look at it. Why, it’s hardly a spot on the map.”
“But what a history it has had, Jack,” said Frank. “Don’t judge by appearances too much. Remember this town has seen the Gold Rush.”
“I wonder what Dad is talking about,” said Jack, ignoring Frank’s remark.
“Probably discussing how soon we can get away,” said big Bob, speaking for the first time. “At any rate,” he added, “I see your father and his companion pointing to that gasoline schooner off shore.”
At this moment, their doubts were resolved, for Mr. Hampton and his companion ended their conversation and approached the boys.
“Well, boys, we’ll soon be under way,” said Mr. Hampton. Whereupon he introduced Farnum all around. The latter was a prepossessing man with a weather-beaten face and a grizzled mustache, above which jutted a promontory of a nose between deep-set, wide, blue eyes.
“That is our schooner out there,” Mr. Hampton continued, indicating the boat to which Bob earlier had drawn attention. “Mr. Farnum,” he added, “has stated casually around Nome that he is taking a party of hunters up the MacKenzie. We’ll get away at once, as nothing is to be gained by a stay in Nome and as, furthermore, we wish to avoid inquiries into our aims. The story Farnum has told will do well enough.”
Farnum nodded.
“Just a white lie,” he said, grinning. “No use letting the curious know all your secrets.”
Then followed an hour of brisk work, at the end of which period the luggage was safely stowed aboard the gasoline schooner, and its screw began to turn. As the little vessel began to throb and draw away from Nome, the boys leaned over side and watched the prospect dwindle in the distance until the houses seemed like toys and the mountainside like a painted backdrop in the theater.
“Hurray,” cried Bob, at last, “we’re off for the Great Unknown.”
“Yes,” agreed Frank, “I really feel that way, too. All the way up from Seattle, I felt as if I were nothing more than a tourist, traveling a beaten route. But this, well, this is different.”
After that they were silent a long time, while the schooner shook and throbbed and steadily pushed its way up the coast, each boy busy with his thoughts. Yet those thoughts were much the same.
Following that eventful discussion in Seattle, on their return from South America and their adventures there in The Enchanted City of the Incas, they had gone back to Yale and studied hard to make up for lost time in the first half of the term. All three were clever and had the knack of concentrating at their tasks, and all as a consequence had succeeded in making up back work in classroom and lecture. As a result they had entered the succeeding term, or at least were prepared to do so, without conditions. This was a matter for congratulation, indeed, and deserving of especial reward.
That reward had been theirs. For Mr. Hampton and Mr. Temple both decided that their respective sons and Frank, Mr. Temple’s ward, should be permitted to accompany Mr. Hampton on his...
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