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“Traitor!” repeated Bob and then pulled his horse’s head around and struck hard with his quirt. In a flash his little horse was flying in the direction of home. It was a desperate chance he was taking, for he had read in the faces of the two men as he turned that they were determined that he should not get back to the dam with his suspicions confirmed. He knew that in running he braved possible death, for he had noticed that both men were armed. The sound of his horse’s hoofs and the rushing wind drowned the noise that would have told him whether he was being pursued or not. He was bending low in the saddle and it was hard to turn and see what had become of Jerry and his companions. But he managed it. Under the moon the town lay quiet, only a lighted window here and there to tell that it was inhabited. Around the machinery and on the dam itself tiny shadows moved to show that the watchmen were not sleeping. Just before they reached the Quarter-house, a horse and rider galloped up the hill. Bob recognized Jenkins and stopped him. Noon still found them ascending and they ate their lunch and hurried on. It was sizzling. There were some trees, but these were few and far between. Most of the footing was sandy and made hard walking. Owing to these conditions it was not until after nightfall that they saw the first sign of civilization. Bob was in the lead and was the first to see a reflection on the horizon..

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She arose, and renewed her search for an outlet. The light, imperfect as it was, now assisted her, and she found a door, which she perceived was not the one by which she had entered. It was firmly fastened; she discovered, however, the bolts and the lock that held it, and at length unclosed the door. It opened upon a dark passage, which she entered. There was no time in which to gather his nerves together. He must act and act at once. So, pulling himself up with as little noise as possible, he peered over. No Miguel was in sight. But a hundred feet down the dam was a tiny thread of white smoke shining gray in the moonlight. With a despairing sob he leaped towards it as fast as his soaked clothes would let him. Taylor had flushed at Mr. Whitney’s words of confidence. It was easy to see that he would probably always be an assistant, never a full-fledged chief. He was the kind of man who could execute orders perfectly but when left with the responsibility of making decisions for himself, was likely to become flustered and upset. He took refuge in the inquiry about the boys. She revived. 'My son!' said she, in a languid voice, as she pressed him to her heart. 'Great God, I am recompensed! Surely this moment may repay a life of misery!' He could only receive her caresses in silence; but the sudden tears which started in his eyes spoke a language too expressive to be misunderstood..