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Little Thumbling had overheard all they said, for having found out, as he lay in his bed, that they were talking of their affairs, he got up quietly and crept under his father's stool, so as to listen to what they were saying without been seen. He went to bed again, but did not sleep a wink the rest of the night, thinking what he should do. He got up early, and went down to the banks of the stream; there he filled his pockets with small white pebbles, and then returned home. They set out all together, and Little Thumbling said not a word to his brothers of what he had overheard. They entered a very thick forest, wherein, at ten paces distant, they could not see one another. The woodcutter began to cut wood, and the children to pick up brushwood for the faggots. The father and mother, seeing them busy at work, gradually stole farther and farther away from them, and then suddenly ran off down a little winding path. Inside, Bob had been listening with wide open ears and his mind pictured the scene Jerry had left to find Mr. Whitney and filled out the holes the winded boy had left in his description. He knew the auxiliary spillway and the harm it could do if it should fail to carry its burden. It was a temporary affair of wood to be used only until a system of drains could be built to take care of the excess water that collected below the coffer dam. His mind’s eye saw Rutherford and Jerry at the dangerous place: Rutherford, young and inexperienced, doing what he could to avert disaster, but rattled, probably badly so. He wanted Mr. Whitney or somebody with practical knowledge and he had sent Jerry off to bring help. All Bob could do was to hope that the wall would hold. Not until the bucket had reached the height of the cableway was he able to take any interest in looking about him. The second or so that had elapsed since he had taken passage on the concrete conveyor had been fully occupied in putting himself in a position where he could hold on and not be in danger of being tipped over the side. Worming himself around he found he could seat himself comfortably in the hook that held the bucket and clasp his arms around the great iron ball that hung just under the many sheaved pulley..
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"Grandmother, what large eyes you have!" Feather-in-the-Wind knew it to be the only plan and started off with long running leaps, keeping himself well hidden from the Mexican. There was just a chance that he could get to the camp and back before Miguel could complete his dastardly work. Johnny kept on hopping. “Yes, you’ll see everything, everything!” “Sit here beside me,” said Uncle Isaac. “Thank you very much for this beautiful Christmas present.” The frame stood on a table near the bed..
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