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“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?” said Bob. “That’s to go through it. Are you ready?” “Gee, that’s tough!” commented Bob, happy that Mr. Whitney had enough confidence to tell him all these things. “But about the Mexicans; you don’t suspect anyone around the job is the trouble maker, do you?” “She had quite a good many—eight big beautiful apples—and six of them hadn’t the least speck of a bruise on them anywhere.”.

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With this he started back up the trail, shaking his head. Jerry suggested they make camp and wait until the boat was water-tight. This seemed a good suggestion, so they built a fire and made some coffee. In the afternoon Bob baled out the water that was in the boat and after watching carefully for half an hour found that no more water had come in. Their flight was swift, swooping something like a bird’s. From one tower the bucket would speed, only to stop silently and, almost before its crossways movement had ended, it would drop to the surface of the work. An instant to unload the bucket and in a flash it was up and gliding like the wind back to its starting point. Ferdinand, whose mind was wholly occupied with wonder, could with difficulty await the return of night. Emilia and Julia were scarcely less impatient. They counted the minutes as they passed; and when the family retired to rest, hastened with palpitating hearts to the apartment of madame. They were soon after joined by Ferdinand, who brought with him tools for cutting away the lock of the door. They paused a few moments in the chamber in fearful silence, but no sound disturbed the stillness of night. Ferdinand applied a knife to the door, and in a short time separated the lock. The door yielded, and disclosed a large and gloomy gallery. He took a light. Emilia and Julia, fearful of remaining in the chamber, resolved to accompany him, and each seizing an arm of madame, they followed in silence. The gallery was in many parts falling to decay, the ceiling was broke, and the window-shutters shattered, which, together with the dampness of the walls, gave the place an air of wild desolation. “But it is a terrible thing. Carlstrom says that I’ve ruined Bob riding him so hard and that Bob must be”—.