Below, drawn over to one
side of the wall of rock, stood Parnassus. Peg was between
the shafts. Bock was nowhere to be seen. Sitting by the van
were three disreputable looking men. The smoke of a cooking
fire rose into the air; evidently they were making free with
my little larder.
"Keep back," said the Professor softly. "Don't let them see
us." He flattened himself in the grass and crawled to the
edge of the cliff. I did the same, and we lay there, invisible
from below, but quite able to see everything in the quarry.
The three tramps were evidently enjoying an excellent breakfast.
"This place is a regular hang-out for these fellows," Mifflin
whispered. "I've seen hoboes about here every year. They go
into winter quarters about the end of October, usually.
There's an old blasted-out section of this quarry that makes
a sheltered dormitory for them, and as the place isn't worked
any more they're not disturbed here so long as they don't make
mischief in the neighbourhood. We'll give them...."
"Hands up!" said a rough voice behind us. I looked round.
There was a fat, red-faced villainous-looking creature
covering us with a shiny revolver. It was an awkward
situation.
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