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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"Guy Garrick"


We could hear them laugh, now, as they cursed us and wished us
luck with our capture. It was galling.
Evidently, too, they had not much use for Forbes, and, indeed, at
such a crisis I do not think he would have been much more than an
additional piece of animated impedimenta. Dissipation had not
added anything to the physical prowess of Forbes.
With a parting volley of profanity, they stamped down the narrow
stairs to the ground floor, and a few seconds afterward we could
hear them back of the house, working over the machine which we had
followed up from New York earlier in the day. Evidently there were
several machines in the barn which served them as garage, but this
was the handiest.
They had cranked it up, and were debating which way they should
go.
"The shots came from the direction of the main road," the Boss
said. "We had better go in the opposite direction. There may be
more of them coming. Hurry up!"
At least, it seemed, there had been only three of them in this
refuge which they had sought up in the hills and valleys of the
Ramapos.


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