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“What’s that?” cried Ted Hoyt, stopping in his stride. “Good day,” said Johnny Blossom, bowing low. “Please take this”—and he put the envelope into her hand. He groped his way along a winding passage, and at length came to a flight of steps. Notwithstanding the darkness, he reached the bottom in safety..

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How still, how still the world was! How fresh and cool! The sun was shining now on the big pine trees back of the house and their trunks were deep red in the strong light. What a fragrance came from the garden—the rich scent of roses, particularly—and how very damp the garden path was! My, oh, my! The dew was certainly like pearls, scattered over the grass—shining white pearls. Johnny Blossom looked at the clock on the church tower. Two minutes before five. Pshaw! so early! Oh, well! Never mind. It was all right. He could do what he liked until the rest of the family got up. “You—you’ve found out something?” he stammered eagerly. The idea of her calling him Johnny boy! That was perfectly outrageous! What right had she to call him by that name? He had outgrown it long ago, and no one used it now except just herself. Here he would be ten years old in a fortnight, no, in twelve days—or, to be exact, twelve days and a half, and so surely he was too old for that baby name. In a flash Jerry saw what Bob meant, and for a second was ashamed that in the excitement he had forgotten the real object of their expedition. They were out to find a place where a dam might be built that would bring the water of life to the parched desert on the other side of the mountain—and he had forgotten all this when his personal safety was in danger. He looked up at the wall nature had built across the canyon. This time it was not as an obstruction that he saw it but as a possible location for a dam. When the boat touched the shore, he brought out the transit and set it up. Bob waited breathlessly for his decision. At last Jerry took his eye from the telescope..