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Updated: June 26, 2025
As soon as they were fairly on their way Jack smoothed out the crumpled paper to read in a scrawling hand: "Look out for the bush-raiders to-day." The sheet bore no signature or date. "Looks like a scare by some one," remarked Jack, as he handed the missive to Fret. "But there can be no harm in keeping a sharp lookout," he admitted.
The train had got its length beyond the place before Jack could realize that he had escaped. The bush-raiders reminded him of it then, if he needed any further notification, by a volley of bullets and renewed yells of rage.
"Wait till you meet the bush-raiders," said Jack. "I reckon I can take any medicine that you can," was the answer, and the boy engineer realized that he had filled Fret Offut's place with a companion of altogether different make-up.
But it isn't the regulars that make the trouble, for at present the territory belongs to Peru, though how soon she will lose it is not for me to say. It's the murderous bush-raiders that are making the trouble." "Who are the bush-raiders?" "That question shows a lamentable ignorance. The bush-raiders are bands of guerillas united to make war upon anybody and anything that crosses their path.
Jack could not say as much when he got back from his second trip, for no less than three shots had been fired into the caboose. Fret Offut was in genuine alarm. The situation was worse than had been described to Jack. Reports showed that the bush-raiders were gaining in numbers every day, and growing more bold as they increased in strength.
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