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“There! Now!” Eric cheered him on. “Reach farther out, Bub! She’s stirring a little. Farther out, I say.” “Here he is, friends,” said the Admiral, “for any of you to see who have not known him before, though I think you all do know him well.” “Feather-in-the-Wind!” gasped Bob. “You back?”.

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Having determined which way to pursue, he pushed his horse into a gallop, and entered the forest as the last rays of the sun trembled on the mountains. The thick foliage of the trees threw a gloom around, which was every moment deepened by the shades of evening. The path was uninterrupted, and the count continued to follow it till all distinction was confounded in the veil of night. Total darkness now made it impossible for him to pursue his way. He dismounted, and fastening his horse to a tree, climbed among the branches, purposing to remain there till morning. The foreman was so surprised that involuntarily his hand made the signal and a second later Bob was climbing through space, faster than a rocket! Aunt Grenertsen had lived in the little house on King Street for an age, ever since he could remember; and everything she had was very old-fashioned. There was a cuckoo clock, and a blue glass jar with dried rose-leaves in; and on the window sill an old gray cat blinked and purred among the plants. “You are right, Bob. I am the chief and starting from to-day I will have to be Mr. Whitney. There is another rodman here and it would be bad for discipline if you called me by that—‘vacation’ name, let’s call it. But we had mighty good times when I was just Whiskers, didn’t we?”.