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Edith Janice
The Air Mystery of Isle La Motte
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3684040The Air Mystery of Isle La Mottehttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-young-alaskans-9781465611765/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/2476498/42189b43-fa85-4284-8bf8-d25b3669b4f9.jpg?v=638685694855200000122135MXNLibrary of AlexandriaInStock/Ebooks/3620228The Air Mystery of Isle La Motte122135https://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-young-alaskans-9781465611765/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/2476498/42189b43-fa85-4284-8bf8-d25b3669b4f9.jpg?v=638685694855200000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20259781465611765_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_<p>Rob McIntyre had been angling for codfish at the top of Valdez dock for the past half-hour. Now, hearing the hoarse boom of the ocean vessels whistle out in the fog-bank which covered the mouth of the harbor, he pulled in his fishing-line, hurriedly threw together his heap of flapping fish, and, turning, sent shoreward the cry always welcome to dwellers in Alaska coast towns. Steamboat! Steamboat! Some one at the freight office on Valdez dock heard him and repeated the cry. Again and again it was passed from one to another along the half-mile of high sidewalk which led from the dock to the town. Soon in every corner of the streets of Valdez there resounded the call: Steamboat! Steamboat! Now there came to the ears of all the low, hoarse boom of the steamers whistle. The great vessel was lying out somewhere in the fog, nosing her way in carefully, taking care not to touch any of the hidden rocks which line the Alaskan shores. The residents of the town poured out from dwelling and shop alike, and soon the streets were full, almost the entire population hurrying over the long trestle to the dock where the boat must land. The whistle said to them that there were now at hand cargoes of goods for the merchants, machinery for the new railroad building inland, necessities and luxuries for every-day life, and, best of all, letters, books and papers from the outside world. Outside in an Alaskan coast town means the United States. Across the range of mountains which fence off the coast from the vast interior outside means the coast itself; just as to any town dweller of the Alaska coast inside means somewhere in the icy interior, vast and unexplored. Among the first to hasten down the long walk from the main street of the town were two friends of Rob McIntyreJesse Wilcox and John Hardy, the former ten and the latter twelve years of age, each therefore a little younger than Rob, who himself was now nearly fourteen. These boys might be called young Alaskans, for although the town of Valdez itself was not more than a few years old, their fathers had helped found the town and were prominent in its business affairs. Mr. Hardy was engaged in railway contracts on the new railroad, and Mr. Wilcox was chief of engineers on the same road. Robs father, Mr. McIntyre, owned the leading store, where all sorts of articles were sold, from shovels and picks to needles and pins. The three boys, it need not be said, were great cronies, and many was the hour of sport they had had here in far-away Alaska.</p>...(*_*)9781465611765_<p>I say now, why are you fellows landing here? The Canadian Mounted Policeman reined in his horse as close to the cock-pit as he could get, and eyed the two occupants in the plane, which had just landed in the southern part of the Province of Quebec. You want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? the blue-eyed youth in the passengers seat drawled in an accent that could belong to only one part of the world, Texas. If youre telling it today, the mounty replied. If not, well get it later. Very true, but you shall have it pronto. From an elevation of three thousand feet we observed you, so we came down to find out if you are riding a real horse, or merely an imitation It isnt a bad plug, interrupted the pilot, whose eyes were blue and they rested with approval on the animal that had aroused their curiosity. But, if you ever visit Cap Bock, well fork you on something superiorwe have a pinto that can Now, look here, Im not fooling. You hop out of that and give an account of yourselves, the mounty ordered firmly. Yes, sir. The two obeyed willingly enough and the man dismounted. When they took off their helmets he saw they were boys, both had tow heads, and they didnt look at all formidable or like a pair he might have to escort to headquarters. However, duty was duty and he wasnt making any snap judgments or taking needless risks. There was too much smuggling, to say nothing of illegal immigration across the border, and orders were strict. It was not at all outside possibility that a couple of perfectly innocent looking youths might be the tools or employees of some powerful gang. The fact that they dropped out of the skies in an airplane was in itself suspicious. Im Jim Austin, age sixteen years and two months. This is my step-brother, Bob Caldwell, fifteen years and eleven months, the grey-eyed boy announced gravely. Proud to meet you, sir, Bob bowed, then added. Im almost as old as he is. Well, go ahead, get along with the story, the mounty put in more pleasantly. His horse had walked close to the boy and was nosing about the pockets of his aviation coat. Soberly Bob drew forth an apple, broke it in half and fed the big fellow. We were both born with a complete pair of parents on ranches, adjoining ones, along Cap Rock in Texas, but circumstances, over which we had no control removed my mother and Bobs father, Jim explained. When I was twelve I discovered that my father was spending a lot of time on the Caldwell ranch and I lay awake nights wondering why a Texas gentleman couldnt shoot a lady. And I planned to set a trap for Mr. Austin and fill him full of lead, Bob offered. Give me your apple, Jim. Jim handed it over without hesitation and it was fed to the horse. Then, one day, I happened along by the water-hole and found some Greasers knocking the stuffing out of Bob. We beat them off, and after that, I went to the Caldwells. It was a nice, clean house and Mrs. Caldwell gave me a square meal, woman cooked.</p>...9781465611765_Library of Alexandrialibro_electonico_a2a04b2f-c7f6-3516-bf61-0235d7736c34_9781465611765;9781465611765_9781465611765Edith JaniceInglésMéxico2025-07-08T00:00:00+00:00https://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/markmoxford-epub-b4c47835-da06-4536-889c-2263df75fbca.epub2025-07-08T00:00:00+00:00Library of Alexandria