All for Adventure - Fenton Ash - ebook

All for Adventure ebook

Fenton Ash

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Opis

Fenton Ash is the first and main pseudonym of UK civil engineer and author Francis Henry Atkins (1847-1927) who was a writer of „pulp fiction”, in particular science fiction aimed at younger readers. He wrote under the pseudonyms Frank Aubrey and Fenton Ash. „All for Adventure” fantasy adventure would suit anyone interested in old fantasy novels for children and young people.

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Liczba stron: 330

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Contents

1. A LITTLE EXCITEMENT

2. A FIGHT IN THE WATER

3. "S.O.S." — A WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP

4. THE RESCUE

5. THE MYSTERY OF THE WRECK

6. THE CONFESSION

7. SAVING THE TREASURE

8. CHASED BY A GERMAN CRUISER

9. THE SPIES AND THEIR PLOT

10. A CRITICAL TIME

11. THE BOY SCOUT'S STORY

12. TOM'S DISCOVERY — THE SECRET PASSAGE

13. CAPTURED BY GERMAN SPIES

14. THE ESCAPE OF HARRY AND RAY FROM THEIR GERMAN CAPTORS

15. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE LIGHTHOUSE

16. SAVING THE FLEET AND THE TROOPS

17. ON ACTIVE SERVICE

18. THE STRANGE FISHERMAN

19. HUNTING A SUBMARINE

20. IN THE SEALS' CAVE

21. ADVENTURES IN THE SARGASSO SEA

22. "FOUL PLAY."

23. LOST IN THE AIR

24. THE RESCUE

25. LEFT TO DIE IN THE SARGASSO WEED

26. THE TREASURE-SEEKERS

27. TURNING THE TABLES

28. A BLOOD FEUD

29. RAY AS MEDICINE MAN

30. AN INDIAN POW-WOW

31. DANCE OF MAGICIANS

32. CONCLUSION

1. A LITTLE EXCITEMENT

“BY Jove! This is grand! A letter from Ray Sinclair, asking me to join him in a trip to South America. Just the kind of thing I’ve been wishing and longing for ever since I was a kid. Splendid! Here’s my chance at last!”

The speaker was young Lord Temperley, and the scene was the morning-room at Temperley Hall. He was seated at breakfast with Mr. Duncan, who acted in the double capacity of guardian and manager of the young man’s estates.

For Lord Harry Temperley was not yet quite twenty-one; though no one would have thought so to judge by appearances alone.

Well built, muscular, almost a giant in stature, known at school and at his university as a splendid all-round athlete, he looked fully two or three years older than be really was.

In other respects he was equally well favoured by nature, being gifted not only with good looks, but with a sunny, good- humoured, genial disposition. Certainly he had very high spirits, which had caused his guardian at times to regard him as rather “a handful,” but that only arose from an excess of energy. There was no vice in breezy, light-hearted, good-tempered Harry Temperley.

That something had happened now to rouse all his enthusiasm was evident as he sat there looking at the letter he held in his hand, his face aglow, his eyes dancing with excitement.

Mr. Duncan regarded him soberly. He was the exact opposite of his ward, being elderly, precise, and staid. But the look in his eyes was less stern than his bearing.

“What are you so excited about, Harry?” he asked quietly. “Surely you are not thinking of starting off to South America at a moment’s notice just because someone you know is going?”

“As to that, Mr. Duncan, Ray Sinclair’s uncle and my father were very great friends, as you know, and they once travelled together in the very part of the world Ray is now going to. And he says his uncle wished him to get me to go with him–and you know that my dear old dad always wanted to take me abroad with him, only at first I was too young, and afterwards he became an invalid.”

The late Lord Temperley, Harry’s father, had been dead nearly two years; while Ray Sinclair’s uncle, Sir Ralph Sinclair, had died a few months before.

Thus Ray and Harry, who had been school-fellows together, had both been left alone in the world while still quite young men. For Sir Raymond Sinclair–to give him his full name and title–was only a year or so older than his chum.

“I hope you are not going to raise all sorts of disagreeable objections, Mr. Duncan?” said Harry, looking at his guardian with the quizzical, open-eyed, innocent air that the old gentleman often found so hard to resist.

“Hum! Hum! What’s he going out there for?” Mr. Duncan asked, judicially. “Better read out to me what he says.”

A slight shadow fell upon the face of the young enthusiast, and his brow became puckered with a puzzled frown, the reason being that his friend Ray was either a very bad writer or had written in a very great hurry, and with unusual carelessness. Anyway, his letter was not an easy one to decipher.

“All right, sir,” said Harry. “I will read you what he says–that is,” he added, hopefully, “as fast as I can make it out. For Ray has sent me the most awful scrawl that I–. However, here goes:

“‘Dear Jumper,’ he says–that’s me, you know, Mr. Duncan. They always called me Jumper at school, because–”

“Because you were always like a cat on hot bricks, I expect,” murmured Mr. Duncan. “But go on.”

“‘Dear Jumper,’” Harry repeated slowly. “Faith, it’s not so easy to ‘go on.’ However, here goes once more–I’ll begin again, so that you don’t lose the thread. ‘Dear Jumper,–At last I’m glued to–’ Gracious! that’s wrong, surely! Oh! he means ‘glad.’ ‘I’m glad to say, I’ve got myself kettled.’ I say, that can’t be right! He can’t have got himself kettled, you know!”

“Settled, perhaps,” Mr. Duncan suggested.

“Why, yes–of course, it’s ‘settled.’ He means he’s got all his affairs settled up after his uncle’s death.”

“He was a very clever scientist–his uncle–wasn’t he–as well as a great traveller?”

“Yes–a naturalist; and besides that, an inventor. He invented–or discovered–several very clever things.”

“And the nephew, young Sir Raymond, takes after him in that respect, doesn’t he?”

“Well, yes–or tries to. He’s always trying to invent something new. However, to go on with this letter; he says his uncle left him a–‘a sacred trust’–a mission. He is to go out to deliver something very important to the chief of an Indian tribe.”

“Where?”

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