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“You think my hunch may be right then?” put in Bob, his eyes shining. “P’r’aps this big wall might become part of the dam itself!” Bob and Jerry were happy. The companionship which they had formed during the days of the Labyrinth and which had been interrupted, now was cemented still further. Ted Hoyt had been allowed by his father to come back to the dam and the trio had great times together. They had not been long in this situation, when they heard a noise which approached gradually, and which did not appear to come from the avenue they had passed..
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“He’s a cattleman,” said the boy, as if that explained everything. "Some years since" said Thackeray in a public speech, "when I was younger, and used to frequent jolly assemblies, I wrote a Bacchanalian song to be chanted after dinner;" and a contemporary record has preserved a note of "the radiant gratification of his face whilst Horace Mayhew sang The Mahogany Tree, perhaps the finest and most soul-stirring of Thackeray's social songs." “We might as well be going,” said Jerry. “Hop in.” He was already at the oars, which he had tied securely to the oarlocks. The wisdom of this precaution was later to be proved to them. Once Bob was in, Jerry pulled off. He was a fair oarsman and going with the current the boat made good time. At this point the river was broad and, except for the towering hills which rose in the distance, it might have been a peaceful tributary stream of any civilized river. Its calm surface gave no warning of what was to come in the way of rapids and whirlpools. After a bit Bob took the oars and as he had had more experience with boats he made even better time than Jerry had. Turn by turn they went through the morning. His reverie was broken into a few moments later by a bell boy coming out with a telegram. It was from Mr. Whitney, and sent from El Paso. Bob opened it and read: “Unexpected developments. Must go Washington. Back within three weeks. Will wire further instructions.”.
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