THE BOY AVIATORS IN AFRICA
CHAPTER I
A REUNION
"Here, Harry, catch hold."
"Ouch--I dropped that cartridge box on my pet corn."
"Say, you fellows, are we going to Africa or are we on a Coney
Island picnic?"
"Be serious now, Billy Barnes, you may be all right as a reporter,
but as a shipping clerk you're no more good than a cold storage
egg."
"Well, I'm doing the best I can," was the indignant reply,
"here--I've got it all down: Box 10-- One waterproof tent, one
rubber-blanket, tent-pegs, ropes, more ropes.--Say, Frank, what in
the name of the 'London Times' and jumping horn-toads do you want so
much rope for?"
"To tie up a certain young reporter named William Barnes when he
gets too fresh," was the laughing reply.
The three boys sat about a heaped, confused collection of ammunition,
cooking-utensils, rifles, and camp "duffle" in general, one evening
late in May. The eldest of the group, a sunny-faced, clear eyed lad
of about sixteen, held in his hand a notebook from which he called out
the inventory of the articles piled about him as his brother, a youth
of fourteen, sorted them out. The third member of the trio was a
short, stocky chap of possibly seventeen, with sharp, blue eyes that
gleamed behind a pair of huge spectacles. He was examining a camera
with care; from time to time turning his attention to an open notebook
that lay beside him in which he was supposed to be entering the list
as the other called it off.
1109330692
A REUNION
"Here, Harry, catch hold."
"Ouch--I dropped that cartridge box on my pet corn."
"Say, you fellows, are we going to Africa or are we on a Coney
Island picnic?"
"Be serious now, Billy Barnes, you may be all right as a reporter,
but as a shipping clerk you're no more good than a cold storage
egg."
"Well, I'm doing the best I can," was the indignant reply,
"here--I've got it all down: Box 10-- One waterproof tent, one
rubber-blanket, tent-pegs, ropes, more ropes.--Say, Frank, what in
the name of the 'London Times' and jumping horn-toads do you want so
much rope for?"
"To tie up a certain young reporter named William Barnes when he
gets too fresh," was the laughing reply.
The three boys sat about a heaped, confused collection of ammunition,
cooking-utensils, rifles, and camp "duffle" in general, one evening
late in May. The eldest of the group, a sunny-faced, clear eyed lad
of about sixteen, held in his hand a notebook from which he called out
the inventory of the articles piled about him as his brother, a youth
of fourteen, sorted them out. The third member of the trio was a
short, stocky chap of possibly seventeen, with sharp, blue eyes that
gleamed behind a pair of huge spectacles. He was examining a camera
with care; from time to time turning his attention to an open notebook
that lay beside him in which he was supposed to be entering the list
as the other called it off.
THE BOY AVIATORS IN AFRICA
CHAPTER I
A REUNION
"Here, Harry, catch hold."
"Ouch--I dropped that cartridge box on my pet corn."
"Say, you fellows, are we going to Africa or are we on a Coney
Island picnic?"
"Be serious now, Billy Barnes, you may be all right as a reporter,
but as a shipping clerk you're no more good than a cold storage
egg."
"Well, I'm doing the best I can," was the indignant reply,
"here--I've got it all down: Box 10-- One waterproof tent, one
rubber-blanket, tent-pegs, ropes, more ropes.--Say, Frank, what in
the name of the 'London Times' and jumping horn-toads do you want so
much rope for?"
"To tie up a certain young reporter named William Barnes when he
gets too fresh," was the laughing reply.
The three boys sat about a heaped, confused collection of ammunition,
cooking-utensils, rifles, and camp "duffle" in general, one evening
late in May. The eldest of the group, a sunny-faced, clear eyed lad
of about sixteen, held in his hand a notebook from which he called out
the inventory of the articles piled about him as his brother, a youth
of fourteen, sorted them out. The third member of the trio was a
short, stocky chap of possibly seventeen, with sharp, blue eyes that
gleamed behind a pair of huge spectacles. He was examining a camera
with care; from time to time turning his attention to an open notebook
that lay beside him in which he was supposed to be entering the list
as the other called it off.
A REUNION
"Here, Harry, catch hold."
"Ouch--I dropped that cartridge box on my pet corn."
"Say, you fellows, are we going to Africa or are we on a Coney
Island picnic?"
"Be serious now, Billy Barnes, you may be all right as a reporter,
but as a shipping clerk you're no more good than a cold storage
egg."
"Well, I'm doing the best I can," was the indignant reply,
"here--I've got it all down: Box 10-- One waterproof tent, one
rubber-blanket, tent-pegs, ropes, more ropes.--Say, Frank, what in
the name of the 'London Times' and jumping horn-toads do you want so
much rope for?"
"To tie up a certain young reporter named William Barnes when he
gets too fresh," was the laughing reply.
The three boys sat about a heaped, confused collection of ammunition,
cooking-utensils, rifles, and camp "duffle" in general, one evening
late in May. The eldest of the group, a sunny-faced, clear eyed lad
of about sixteen, held in his hand a notebook from which he called out
the inventory of the articles piled about him as his brother, a youth
of fourteen, sorted them out. The third member of the trio was a
short, stocky chap of possibly seventeen, with sharp, blue eyes that
gleamed behind a pair of huge spectacles. He was examining a camera
with care; from time to time turning his attention to an open notebook
that lay beside him in which he was supposed to be entering the list
as the other called it off.
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940013923409 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | SAP |
| Publication date: | 03/05/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 144 KB |
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