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“But, Jerry, how about the Labyrinth? We found it—don’t you want to have a hand in what happens next?” “Thank you, sir,” the boy answered, “but I couldn’t sleep now. There’s too much excitement around!” “Don’t fret yourself about that, Bob. I’ll have a job for you all right and one you’ll like,” said the engineer..
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“Yes, you must, John.” “You’re a Service bug,” smiled Jerry, who had lost all signs of being uneasy. “I bet you’ll be an engineer all your life.” Bob hesitated for a perceptible interval before he answered. “I don’t know. Somehow I don’t think we’d better,” he said at last. “Lately I don’t know what has come over him. He never was very enthusiastic about the Service but I thought he was really fond of Mr. Whitney. But he’s let out some funny remarks and it might be possible that someone has hurt his feelings. I’ve a sneaking notion that we ought not to tell him. I don’t know why, but I just feel it.” He was just sick and tired of seeing those apples in that good-for-nothing garden. Good-for-nothing it certainly was, and very, very old. There was only one apple tree besides the one Johnny was so interested in, but its fruit could scarcely be called apples at all. He would call them croquet balls—such hard green things as they were—hard as rocks. Of course if any of them were on the ground, he bit into them. In fact, he had eaten a good many of them first and last, but they were horrid things, anyway..
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