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“If you only haven’t broken his wind, boy. Pretty risky—to ride him the way you have these last days.”,

“But when we did come it was our turn to be disappointed.” Here the cavalry officer took up the story. “Bob Hazard and his friends had got ahead of us too.”,

“They will have to!” was the confident reply. “I’ll draw up a report the moment we strike camp! But now we’ll have to run for our train. I’ve been so interested, I forgot the time.”,

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.

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“You can just bet your boots I am,” returned Ted, holding out his hand. Bob shook it warmly.,

As far as the eye could reach, the great chasm extended. In it rose pinnacles, spires and mountain ranges, alternating with deep valleys and gulches. At the very bottom wound a tiny thread of silver, the Colorado River, for whose passage nature had undertaken such a gigantic task and, in its accomplishment, had created such beauty.,

From the farther end of the hall came the query: “Is he here? Is Johnny Blossom here?”,

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.