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“If they did that,” exploded the rancher, “there’d be nothing to it. We would be obliged to go in. I could come mighty nigh wishing somebody a hurt if ’twould bring it about.” “Jerry, Jerry, old scout! I’m sorry as I can be. Forgive me for not having faith in you. I wanted to all the time!” The duke, who was not materially wounded, after the first transport of his rage had subsided, suffered them to depart. Relieved from their fears, they joyfully set forward, leaving their late pursuer to the anguish of defeat, and fruitless endeavour. He was remounted on his horse; and having dispatched two of his people in search of a house where he might obtain some relief, he proceeded slowly on his return to the castle of Mazzini..

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“Yep,” answered Bob. Naturally, Bob’s first thought was of escape, of some way in which to get out of the four walls which kept him from carrying the warning to Mr. Whitney that might mean the saving of the dam. If he could only get out, he did not fear Harper’s being on guard. The last speech that had come to him through the door had been so contradictory and had emphasized so strongly the fact that Harper would be outside, that Bob was quite sure he wouldn’t. At any rate he was willing to take the chance if only he could get out. When he reached the edge of the river Bob slipped into the water with as little noise as possible. Keeping close to the dam he found that he could make fair headway by half swimming and half walking along the slanting boards which held the Rio Grande in check. His plan was desperate, yet it was the only one that seemed feasible. Miguel would probably set a rather long fuse, one long enough to allow him to get safely away. “If I can only get there before the fuse has burned to the first stick of dynamite!” gasped Bob to himself. "All the better to see with, child.".