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“But isn’t your shirt wet?” Christmas 1910. “He’s a very good boy, too, Aunt Grenertsen.”.

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“What’s the matter? What ye cryin’ fer?” It was Nils the fisherman who spoke and whose coming over the soft grass Johnny had not noticed. Panting, struggling, gasping, he fought on. His mind was filled with the horror of what would happen should he be too late. There was no way of telling how far Miguel had gone. The dam that kept him hidden from the Mexican, also hid the Mexican from him. He must—he must go on until he was well past the center of the dam—Miguel would do the job thoroughly if at all. Once there he must go through a fresh ordeal. He must climb out of the water and look over the edge of the dam in order to get his bearings and to find out where the Mexican had lit the fuse. Should he look over at the wrong spot and Miguel see him, it was the end—the end probably of his life and surely the finish of the coffer dam. “Yes, my boy.” “I wonder who did then. But I want to go to the troops. Which way did they go?” But before Bob could answer, Mr. Whitney saw for the first time that Jerry was being held prisoner by the Indian..