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“The town,” was the answer; “the mechanics’ houses and the bunk houses for the Mexican laborers. The only people who live up here on the hill are the engineers and executives.” “I guess he thinks the Gringo got mixed up with a charge of dynamite!” was the boy’s reflection as he scuttled up to his room. “Oh, let them wait,” said Bob. “You can go next Sunday. We haven’t been out together for a long time. Come on, be a sport.”.
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Conrad
“What is that you say? Speak out, my boy.” From the river the country had looked flat. But once faced in the direction the old man had told them to go, they found the way was quite hilly. Perhaps they had been so used during the past days in the canyon to the walls towering straight up on each side of them that the gradual rise did seem flat. But they soon realized it would be quite a climb. “You poor nut! You haven’t any sense anyway!” “I’ll bet a road could be made from the edge of the canyon to the top of the cliff,” asserted Bob confidently, “and what work had to be done here at the river bed could be managed by derricks and cranes from that spot. Don’t you think so?”.
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