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Clouston, J. Storer (Joseph Storer), 1870-1944

"The Man from the Clouds"


"Now for the rest of the gang!" said my uncle. "Do you suppose they've
heard us and bolted?"
"Do you mean the Scollays?" asked Jean. "Oh, I don't believe they knew!"
"My dear young lady, it's very painful for you to think your tenants are
playing such games, but they simply must have known!"
"We can't afford to give them the benefit of the doubt," said Jack
Whiteclett. "That's absolutely certain. I am afraid I must arrest them,
Miss Rendall, and the sooner it's over the better."
"Jack!" commanded our uncle, "this is a matter I think I could handle
rather better than a hot-headed young man." (Commander Whiteclett, it
may be mentioned, was reputed in the Navy to have a remarkably cool
head.) "Dr. Rendall, perhaps you will be good enough to keep watch over
our prisoner for a few minutes while we are gone. Roger, give the doctor
your pistol. If we hear you fire, doctor, we'll be out in a few seconds.
Jack and Roger, come along with me."
Jack and I exchanged a look but said nothing. Our uncle still held the
torch, and flashing it before him led the way out of the barn. We
followed him, but my eyes I am afraid were over my shoulder. I saw Jean
slip her own torch into the doctor's hand and then she ran after me.
"May I come too!" she whispered.
"Of course!" I said, "you're in command of the party--or ought to be!"
and out we went together.


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