Harrie Irving Hancock This present series, which is intended to describe the vacations of our Gridley High School boys in between their regular school years, opened with the preceding volume, "The High School Boys Canoe Club". Within the pages of that volume are set forth the manner in which Dick & Co. secured, at an auction sale of a Wild West show, a six-paddle Indian war canoe. All their problems in getting this canoe into serviceable condition made highly interesting reading. The host of adventures that surrounded their vacation at Lake Pleasant proved thrilling indeed to our readers. How they met and contested with the canoe clubs from other high schools was delightfully set forth. The efforts of Fred Ripley to spoil the fun of Dick & Co. during that vacation, formed another strong feature of the tale.
Harrie Irving Hancock This is a juvenile fiction book. Each was handed the treasurer's receipt for the exact amount that he deposited. Then came a rather dazzlingly attired young man of at least twenty-one. He had watched the others and now, with an air of some importance, drew out a roll of considerable size. He detached two fifty-dollar bills and handed them to the treasurer, with the query:
Harrie Irving Hancock The work from the American chemist and writer, mainly remembered as an author of children's literature in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell prove their mettle at the U.S. Naval Academy and give promise of what might be expected of them in the great war that was even at that moment hovering over the world.
Harrie Irving Hancock Splendid stories of young men who know how to get the most out of both work and play, and to make each year of life a preparation for a better year to come. These books are a great example of life in a simpler time before WW1.
Harrie Irving Hancock Out on the North Dock at West Point the column of cadets had marched, and now, at the word, came to an abrupt stop. This detachment, made up of members of the first and third classes in the United States Military Academy, was out on this August forenoon for instruction in actual military engineering. The task, which must be accomplished in a scant two hours, was to lay a pontoon bridge across an indentation of the Hudson River, this indentation being a few hundred feet across, and representing, in theory, an unfordable river.
Harrie Irving Hancock A book covering four books about two school mates, Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes and their four years at the United States Military Academy, West Point. Light reading about their times and trials at the Academy and how two mid-western American Boys could do no wrong.
Harrie Irving Hancock This novel is a children’s story about a high school football team. It is part of the Football Fiction Collection within Football Anthology. Get on the gridiron with this entertaining collection of fun and exciting football stories. This collection is ideal for individuals interested in football, the gridiron, the history of American sports, Walter Camp, quarterbacks, halfbacks, and the development of football’s rules.
Harrie Irving Hancock Together the chums skirted the camp, going up to the wooden building. As the door was open, Tom, with a sense of good manners, approached from the side that he might not appear to be peeping in on the occupants of the building. Gaining the side of the doorway, with Harry just behind him, Reade knocked softly.
Harrie Irving Hancock Camp Berry, at which the Ninety-ninth and the Hundredth were stationed, lay in one of the prettiest parts of Georgia. Needless to say the day was one of sweltering heat and the regimental officers, as they filed out of the company barracks that had been used for holding the conference, fanned themselves busily with their campaign hats. Each, however, as he struck the steps leading to the ground, placed his campaign hat squarely on his head.
Harrie Irving Hancock This book is a fiction short story. First Classman Dave Darrin, midshipman at the United States Naval Academy, did not finish what he was about to say. While speaking he had closed the door behind him and had stepped into the quarters occupied jointly by himself and by Midshipman Daniel Dalzell, also of the first or upper class. "Danny boy isn't here. Visiting, probably", mused Dave Darrin, after having glanced into the alcove bedroom at his right hand. It was a Saturday night, early in October. The new academic year at the Naval Academy was but a week old. There being no "hop" that night the members of the brigade had their time to spend as they pleased. Some of the young men would need the time sadly to put in at their new studies. Dave, fortunately, did not feel under any necessity to spend his leisure in grinding over text-books. Dave glanced at his study desk, though he barely saw the pile of text-books neatly piled up there.
Harrie Irving Hancock This is a part of Dave Darrin series that is offered as a juvenile series collection by the author. That handsome young member of the brigade of midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis was now in mufti, or cits, —meaning, in other words, that he was out of his Naval uniform and attired in the conventional clothing of a young American when calling on his sweetheart. Dave was now a fine looking and "husky" second classman. He was just a shade more than half way through his course of instruction at Annapolis.
Harrie Irving Hancock On this early June day when we again encounter Dave Darrin and Dan Dalzell in their handsome Naval uniforms, all members of the first, second and third classes were due to be aboard one of the three great battleships that lay off the Yard at Annapolis at four p.m. These three great battleships were the "Massachusetts", the "Iowa" and the "Indiana". These three huge, turreted fighting craft had their full crews aboard. Not one of the battleship commanders would allow a "jackie" ashore, except on business, through fear that many of the "wilder" ones might find the attractions on shore too alluring, and fail to return in time.
Harrie Irving Hancock This is the story of a young engineer. "Say, got the makings?" "Eh?" inquired Tom Reade, glancing up in mild astonishment. "Got the makings?" persisted the thin dough-faced lad of fourteen who had come into the tent. "I believe we have the makings for supper, if you mean that you're hungry", Tom rejoined. "But you've just had your dinner". "I know I have", replied the youngster. "That's why I want my smoke". "Your wha-a-at?" insisted Tom. By this time light had begun to dawn upon the bronzed, athletic young engineer, but he preferred to pretend ignorance a little while longer. "Say, don't you carry the makings?" demanded the boy. "You'll have to be more explicit", Tom retorted. "Just what are you up to? What do you want anyway?" "I want the makings for a cigarette", replied the boy, shifting uneasily to the other foot. "You said you'd pay me five dollars a month and find me in everything, didn't you?" "Yes; everything that is necessary to living", Reade assented. "Well, cigarettes are necessary to me", continued the boy.
Harrie Irving Hancock A fiction story. "It's the wreck of one of the grandest enterprises ever conceived by the human mind!" complained Colonel W.P. Grundy, in a voice broken with emotion. A group of small boys grinned, though they offered no audible comment. "Such defeats often---usually, in fact---come to those who try to educate the masses and bring popular intelligence to a higher level", was the colonel's declaration, as he wiped away a real or imaginary tear. On a nearby lot stood a large show tent, so grayed and frayed, so altogether dingy as to suggest that it had seen some summers of service ere it became briefly the property of Colonel Grundy. Near the entrance to the tent a temporary platform had been built of the board seats taken from the interior of the tent. Near the platform stood a grim-visaged deputy sheriff, conversing with an auctioneer on whose face the grin had become chronic. Some distance from the tent stood a group of perhaps forty men of the town of Gridley.
Harrie Irving Hancock This is a crime book. Now, at last, they had been lured away from the S. B. & L. by the offer of a new chance to overcome difficulties of the sort that all fighting engineers love to encounter. The Arizona, Gulf & New Mexico Railroad-- more commonly known as the A., G. & N. M. --while laying its tracks in an attempt at record-beating, had come afoul of the problem of the quicksand, as already outlined. Three different sets of engineers had attempted the feat of filling up the quicksand, only to abandon it. There was little doubt that the Colthwaite Construction Company, a contracting firm with years of successful experience, could have, "stopped" the quicksand, but this Chicago firm wanted far more money for the job than the railroad people felt they could afford to spend.
Harrie Irving Hancock Timmy was merely a prospective freshman, having been graduated a few days before from the North Grammar School in Gridley. Tom, himself, had been graduated, three years before, from the fine old Central Grammar, whence, in his estimation, all the "regular" boys came. As a North Grammar boy, Timmy was to be regarded only with easygoing indifference. Yet a tale of woe quickly made Tom Reade his young fellow citizen's instant ally.
Harrie Irving Hancock For, though this bungalow on a little island southwest of Beaufort, North Carolina, had an appearance of being wholly out of the world, 9 yet the absent owner, Mr. Powell Seaton, had contrived to put his place very much “in the world” by installing wireless telegraphy at the bungalow. On the premises was operated a complete electrical plant that furnished energy enough to send messages for hundreds of miles along the coast. For Joe, the mechanical genius of the Motor Boat Club, had always had a passion for telegraphy. Of late he had gone in in earnest for the wireless kind, and had rapidly mastered its most essential details.
Harrie Irving Hancock That wagon was put together especially for the purpose. It has seats that run lengthwise, and eight small cupboards and lockers under the seats. There is a place to secure the cook stove at the rear end of the wagon, and the stove rests on zinc. Though the wagon is light enough for one horse to draw it, it will hold all that several people could require for camping or for leading a regular gipsy life. There is a special awning that covers the wagon when needed, so that on a rainy day you can travel without using umbrellas or getting wet. You can cook equally well on the stove whether in camp or on the road. There are not many vehicles in which you can cook a full meal when traveling from one point to another.
Harrie Irving Hancock Dave Darrin was young, healthy, happy, reasonably good-looking. His top-coat and gray suit were well tailored. Yet, save for his erect, military carriage, there was nothing to distinguish him from the thousands of average well-dressed young men who thronged Broadway after dark on this evening in late March. For perhaps fifteen blocks he strolled uptown. All that he saw on that gaily lighted main thoroughfare of New York was interesting. It was the same old evening crowd, on pleasure bent.
Harrie Irving Hancock I wish I had brought my electric flash out here with me, muttered HarryHazelton uneasily".I told you that you'd better do it, chuckled Tom Reade. But how could I know that the night would be pitch dark? Harry demanded. I don't know this gulf weather yet, and fifteen minutes ago the stars were out in full force. Now look at them! How can I look at them? demanded Tom, halting. My flashlight won't pierce the clouds. Reade halted on his dark, dangerous footway, and Harry, just behind him, uttered a sigh of relief and halted also. I never was in such a place as this before. You've been in many a worse place, though rejoined Tom. I never heard you make half as much fuss, either. I think something must be wrong with my head, ventured Harry. Undoubtedly, Tom Reade agreed cheerily. Hear that water, Harry went on in a voice scarcely less disconsolate than before. Of course, nodded Tom. But the water can hardly be termed a surprise. We both knew that the Gulf of Mexico is here.
Harrie Irving Hancock The new principal, who had just stepped into the room, and who now stood waiting behind his flat-top desk on the platform, was a tall, thin, severe-looking man of thirty-two or three. For this year Dr. Carl Thornton, beloved principal for a half-score of years, was not in command at the school. Ill health had forced the good old doctor to take at least a year's rest, and this stranger now sat in the Thornton chair. "Mr. Harper", almost rasped out Mr. Cantwell's voice, "stop rustling that paper".
Harrie Irving Hancock By the time that the noon dismissal bell rang the rain had ceased, and the sun was struggling out. Out in the coatroom Dick snatched his hat from the nail as though he were in haste to get away. With that Dick marched back into the schoolroom. Old Dut, looking up from the books that he was placing in a tidy pile on the platform desk, smiled. Then Dick turned, anxious to get out into the open as quickly as possible.
Harrie Irving Hancock "I will, if the rest of you fellows will". challenged Darrin quickly.
"The truth is out". Tom burst out laughing. "Darry, by that slip of the tongue you admitted that you've been eating too much and that you're all out of sorts".
Dave did not deny. He merely snorted, from which sign of defiance his chums could gain no information.
They had gone another quarter of a mile through the woods when Dick, now alone in the lead, suddenly halted, holding up one hand as a signal to halt, while he rested the fingers of his other hand over his lips as a command for silence.
"What is it?" whispered Darrin, stepping close.
"Fred Ripley, Bert Dodge and some of their fellows". Dick whispered, at the same time pointing through the leaves.
"Well, we don't have to halt, just because they're around". retorted Darrin, snorting.
Harrie Irving Hancock GREEN HAT, THE TROUBLE-STARTER Dan, whispered Dave Darrin, Ensign, United States Navy, to his chum and brother officer, do you see that fellow with the green Alpine hat and the green vest? Yes, nodded Dan Dalzell. Watch him. Why? He's a powerful brute, and it looks as though he's spoiling for a fight. You are not going to oblige him, are you? asked Dalzell in a whisper, betraying surprise. Nothing like it, Darrin responded disgustedly. Danny Grin, don't you credit me with more sense than that? Do you imagine I'd engage in a fight in a place like this? Then why are you interested in what the fellow might do? demanded Ensign Dan. Because I think there is going to be a lively time here. That fellow under the Alpine hat is equal to at least four of these spindling Spanish waiters. There is going to be trouble within four minutes, or I'm a poor guesser. Just let Mr. Green Hat start something, chuckled Ensign Dalzell in an undertone. "There are plenty of stalwart British soldiers here, and 'Tommy Atkins' never has been known to be averse to a good fair fight
Harrie Irving Hancock THE LETTER FROM THE WAR DEPARTMENT Whew, but it's hot here! grumbled Sergeant Noll Terry, of the United States Army. That's an odd complaint to hear from a young man who served so actively for two years in the tropics, laughed Mrs. Overton, a short, plump, middle-aged matron. Well, Mother, it is a hot day, put in Sergeant Hal Overton quietly. Yes, it is, agreed Hal's mother, though you two, who came from the Philippines the very picture of health can't feel the weather to-day much. New Jersey isn't in the tropics.
Harrie Irving Hancock LIEUTENANT POPE, battalion adjutant of the first battalion of the Thirty-fourth United States Infantry, looked up from his office desk as the door swung open and a smart, trim-looking young corporal strode in.
Harrie Irving Hancock A LESSON IN RESPECT FOR THE UNIFORM AW, what's the difference between a soldier and a loafer? demanded Bunny Hepburn. A soldier ain't a loafer, and it takes nerve to be a soldier. It's a job for the bravest kind of a man, retorted Jud Jeffers indignantly. Answer my c'nundrum, insisted Bunny. It ain't a decent conundrum, retorted Jud, with dignity, for his father had served as a volunteer soldier in the war with Spain. Go on, Bunny, broke in another boy in the group, laughing. I'll be the goat. What is the difference between a soldier and a loafer? A soldier gets paid and fed, and the other loafer doesn't, retorted Bunny, with a broadening grin. A moment later, when he realized that his joke had failed to raise a laugh, Bunny looked disappointed. Aw, go on, flared up Jud Jeffers. You don't know anything about a soldier. But my dad does, retorted Bunny positively. "Dad says soldiers don't produce anything for a living; that they take their pay out of the pockets of the public, and then laugh at the public for fools
Harrie Irving Hancock The man who had offered the bet was a well known local character—Jim Duff by name, by occupation one of the meanest and most dishonorable gamblers who had ever disgraced Arizona by his presence. There is an old tradition about "honest gamblers" and "players of square games." The man who has been much about the world soon learns to understand that the really honest and "square" gambler is a creature of the imagination. The gambler makes his living by his wits, and he who lives by anything so intangible speedily finds the road to cheating and trickery. Jim Duff had been no exception. His reputation was such that he could find few men among the residents of this part of Arizona who would meet him at the gaming table. He plied his trade mostly among simple-minded tourists from the east—the class of men who are known in Arizona as "tenderfeet."