REALLY, no pleasanter place was to be found than down at Sandy Point, where Tellef lived. The shabby gray hut stood among locust and wild cherry trees on a small green plot, and if you went up on the knoll back of the house you could get a wide view of the glorious open sea.,
The man laughed. “Even the Grand Canyon can’t keep a good, healthy appetite down for long, can it? I guess supper is pretty nearly ready now. But wait a minute—here is someone I want you to know.”,
“But, Jerry, how about the Labyrinth? We found it—don’t you want to have a hand in what happens next?”,
At home that day they had been baking the Christmas cakes. Johnny Blossom had eaten not a little of the raw dough, and his sister Asta and he had made some cakes of remarkable shapes (though rather dingy from much handling), which they were allowed to bake.
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CHAPTER X,
Aunt Grenertsen certainly was difficult to talk with; and sometimes he did not even get a “half moon.” He believed he wouldn’t go there any more, or try to please either her or old Katrina, who was almost worse than Aunt Grenertsen.,
“Yes, here he is,” piped a shrill, boyish voice from the doorway.,
Was he to die, trapped like a rat? Was this the end of his adventure? It looked very much like it. But something would not let him give up. He would make one more attempt for his life and liberty.
“Well,” Ted replied, “I hung around the house all day yesterday and worked like a dog. Dad was tickled to death when I got back. Thought that I’d proved by coming back that he was right. But he took good care to give me a bunch of stiff jobs all the same. I didn’t get onto anything yesterday until about ten o’clock. I had hit the hay but had not gone to sleep, when Dave Wesley and John Harper rode in. Both of ’em are cattlemen and they were some lit up, believe me. They had been down to Las Cruces and had mopped up all the liquor in sight. They had been around the ranch a lot recently but I had not paid much attention to them. When they came along before they had long confabs with Dad, but took care to have them where they could not be overheard. Last night they were not so careful and in spite of all my old man could do they talked and talked loud. The booze made ’em careless, I reckon, ’cause I heard them all right.”
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“Such rough shaking, I don’t like. You must pick the apples.”
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No one was in the sitting room at home, nor in the library; but from Mother’s room there came a sound as of some one crying. Johnny Blossom tramped in. There lay Mother on the couch, and Father sat by her side, and they were both sobbing as hard as they could.
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There were once a King and Queen, who were very unhappy at not having any children, more unhappy than words can tell. Vows, pilgrimages, everything was tried, but nothing was of any avail; at length, however, a little daughter was born to them.
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>“Such rough shaking, I don’t like. You must pick the apples.”
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