7,000 miles underground: or, Frank Reade, Jr., exploring a volcano.


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7,000 miles underground: or, Frank Reade, Jr., exploring a volcano.

Material Information

Title:
7,000 miles underground: or, Frank Reade, Jr., exploring a volcano.
Series Title:
Frank Reade library.
Creator:
Senarens, Luis, 1863-1939
Place of Publication:
New York
Publisher:
Frank Tousey
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
1 online resource (15 p.) 29 cm. : ;

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Inventors -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Science fiction ( lcsh )
Dime novels ( lcsh )
Genre:
serial ( sobekcm )

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of South Florida Library
Holding Location:
University of South Florida
Rights Management:
The University of South Florida Libraries believes that the Item is in the Public Domain under the laws of the United States, but a determination was not made as to its copyright status under the copyright laws of other countries. The Item may not be in the Public Domain under the laws of other countries.
Resource Identifier:
R17-00123 ( USFLDC DOI )
r17.123 ( USFLDC Handle )
024953027 ( Aleph )
38535181 ( OCLC )

Postcard Information

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serial

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Full Text

PAGE 1

Noname!fs" Latest and Best Stories are Published in This as Second Cl ctss 1lfatter at the 1 Y e10 York, N Y ., Pos t O.Dt ce, 5, 1892. No. 162. { C OMl'LI!lTIC.} FRANK TOUSEY, 29 WES' l 26t h S 'l' REI< r N1
PAGE 2

2 7,000 MILES UNDERGROUND. The subscription price of the FRANK READE LIBRARY by the vear i s $2.50; $1.25 per six months, post paid. Address FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 29 West 26th Street, New York. 7,000 Miles Underground; OR, Frank Reade, Jr., Exploring a Volcano. By "NO NAME," Author of "Chasing a Pirate,' "Frank Reade, Jr., in Cuba," "Frank Jr., in Japan," etc., etc. CHAPTER I. HELD "U P BY BANDITS. ONE evening the stage coach which ran lletween San Pedro and the mimng town of Broken Knee was going through a mountain canyon. Beside the gray bearded old driver sat a slim young man clad in a llicycle suit. of gray, his face clean shaved, and a pair or eye glasses upon his nose. So you're a newspaper reporter, bey?'' ll:\e driver was asking him, as he turne:l his raw-booed old team into the middle of the pass. Oh yes," responded the individual in the bicycle suit. My nnme is Nick Squibbs, Esqnire, and I'm the writer for the New York Herald wllo was recently sent West to explore the Great Cave of Volcano Mountain, my boy." "Ther deuce yer wuzl" .ejaculate(! old Hickory, with a frown. I ad wises yer ter give up tber job then, sir, if yer wants ter go borne alive.'' Why soT" asked the ynung reporter with a smile. 'Cause It's tber bole in tber hull range o' t)ler San Jnciuto Mountains. Thar never wuz but one critter wot ever came out o' that trap wl' a hull skin, an' it WIU his account wot sent otht>rs thar ter snrtin death." "That's just it," coolly said Mr. Squibb&, in satisfied tones. "You could not have said anything that would have induced me more to ex plore that cave, for I want to llnd out tile cause of the mysterious dJs appearn.nce of everyone who has gone inr,o that llig hole in the ground." "Waal," snorte1l old Hi-.:kory, a qu.izzical look at his com panion. "You air ther strangest feller wot I ever seen." H a man hasn't got a cast iron nerve he can never succeed as a reporter on a New York daily. He d get the merry Ba, ba,' in no time if be failed to cnrry out his assignment--" "Wot's ther ml'rry ha-h1t meunt' "Why-the marble hea"-the glassy eye, and the frozen hand.'' "I reckon as I don't understand yer, youngster." Nickodemus Squibbs burst out laughing, and ns the tones of his voice pealed through the silent canyon, it set the four passengers in side the coach wondering what cnused his jollity. The last note of his voice hnd scarcely died away, when of a sudden a dozen men, armed and masked, sprang from behind the adjacent rocks and bushes. and rushed toward the stage coach. "Road agente!" gasped the driver in alarm. By jingo! This is nice!" Nick exclaimed. Halt!" yelled the leader of the He sprang to the horses' heads and arasped the reins at the bits, suddenly checking the startled team. "' The PtJ.Sseugers stuck their heads out the side windows of the coach and saw at a glance what was transpiring. Nick pulled a revolver from his pocket and leveled It at the man who had just stopped them. Let go those boraesl" he shouted, angrily. You drop that gun, or they'll riddle us!" gagped Hickory. "Not an inch! I mean to defend myselfl'' was the cool rPply. The veteran driver jumped to the gound and discreetly raist>d his hands above his bead in to kim of submission, for be bad beeu held up before, and knew the value of not resisting. "Do you bear mel" Nick roared at the bandit. "Fire at him, boys!" shouted the to his men. Bang! Bane;! came several rille shots. The. sput-sputl of the bullet8, as they flew past the gallant reporter's bead made a sickened feeling creep over him. But be did not Jlincb. On the contrary, he opened lire. Crack! A yell of pain escaped the bandit who held the team. He reeled, and fell writhing to the ground, crying: "I'm shot!" "Come down from tbar!" growled Hickory. Not tlili give them the quieting pill," replied Nick. An!l-bang-bang-baug! rattled his revolver. He was a good shot too, for each time he fired a man screamed and showed evidence of having been wounded, Tile outlaws llred back wildly with the:r rilles, for they did not ex pect such a determined and deadly resistance. Several more from the plucky reporter's pistol scattered them, nod they slunk bebmd the abetter of trees and rocks again. D'yer wanter git ploggell, yer leetle foolr' roarell HicKory, nervously, "No, I can't say l'm anxious to get. the whistlina bullet." Come down yere then, I tell yer!" 0 Guess I shall, as tlloae beggars are out of sight now. What a capital article this will make for my paper!" And with a reckless laugh, be leaped to the ground. Inter tiler coach wi' yer!" advised the old driver, who could not help admiring Nick's utter indillerenee to danger. "No, no! We'd be cooped up there, my boy." It's some protection, lad; here thar's none.'' "That's so! I don't want to give them the bulge O!! me." As the coach door was thrown open, both scrambled in just as a murderous volley was poured at them by the concealed bandits. The !lying bullets struck all around them, some craabmg into the heavy oak t.ooarding of the old stage coach. All the occupants were men, and each one went armed. Two were ranchmen, end the ott.ers were a lawyer and n store keeper from Broi
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