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“I didn’t know what I’d let myself in for. If anything, my life was a lot worse than it’d been before. The Denver Kid was the name of the man who had picked me up and I soon learned that he was a tramp—a hobo. All first class hoboes get boys who go along with them and on whom fall all the hard work. Their pay is in kicks and beatings. And I got my share of both. I found the country to be as he said it was, but we saw very little of it, for the Kid didn’t like walking. He stayed close to the railroad and I saw most of the country from a crack in the door of a box car, or through the flying sand thrown up over us as we clung to a rattling brake-beam. Nothing serious had happened so far, he was glad to see, as they came upon Mr. Rutherford and the gang of men who were attempting to shore up the wall of the stream. The waterway at this point was built entirely of wood and the present trouble was due either to an unexpected pressure of water or some defect in construction. “Who are they and why should they be worried by what happens here?” Bob wanted to know..

"He surely did not," answered Cobin. "Nobody knows where he went—nor cares. But nobody can do anythin' with that timber without his sayso. It's a year or more since ol' Scroggie died. People do say that his ghost floats about the old cabin, at nights, but of course that can't be, sir."I tried logging in using my phone number and I was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call me instead" option twice but didn't get a call either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call me instead fails.There was "Well, you go along to the milkhouse an' lick the cream off a pan of milk. It'll settle that Injun turnip quick."

“You bet,” Jerry said quickly. “Don’t you think he’s had enough, Boss Whitney?” Why! There he was back again. “Six minutes and eight seconds going,” he shouted, “and eight minutes and one second coming back!” “Just out on a little jaunt. Where did you come from?” “Trouble below, Billy!” gasped Bob as he came to the shed that protected the operator from the rays of the sun. “Need the Big Boss. He’s over at the spillway. Shoot me over?”.