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'Touched with chagrin and disappointment, he immediately entered into the service of his Neapolitan majesty, and sought in the tumultuous scenes of glory, a refuge from the pangs of disappointed passion.,

“Don’t you like my singing, Mother?”,

But Bob would not go. He kept asking Mr. Whitney questions about the details of the work and the man had to answer. He saw in the boy’s enthusiasm something of the enthusiasm he himself had felt when he had joined the Service, and which he had never lost, in spite of the disappointments and hard knocks that had come his way. Finally, however, he insisted on breaking up the conversation. But before Bob left he said to him quite earnestly and seriously, “I have told you about the Service, Bob, and I want you to think pretty carefully about[31] it. If you once start, you will have a hard time breaking away. There are a lot of other things you can do which will bring you more money and more fame. This working for the Government, the extending of the territory of the country and increasing its value, gets into your blood and once it does you will never be fit for anything else. It is not too late to stop now if you want to. Good night, and let me know in the morning what you decide to do.”,

From where they were sitting, screened by the undergrowth, they could see a section of a rough path that led up the hillside. For a long time nothing happened. As the Indian did not speak, Bob felt it best to remain quiet also. Probably there was a reason for it. The delay did not worry him much, however, as there was plenty of material for his mind to be busy with. Ever since he had talked with Mr. Whitney, events had tumbled upon him one after another. Mr. Whitney had gone and Ted was doing outpost duty. Jerry was on the other side. Only the Indian was left to him and he was not much of a counselor. True, he was beginning to prove himself a great help but through the limitations of language he could not be used to discuss what ought to be done regarding the things they found out. What the outcome of the mess was to be was beyond Bob’s imagination to foresee. He was determined to do what he felt was his duty, and if the consequences were serious it could not be helped.

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To Bob’s great disgust his first job was not out on the construction work. Whiskers had turned him over to Mr. Taylor, who set him to work in the draughting room. All day long he sat on a stool, and did simple sums: endless multiplications and divisions of figures that came from the blue prints made by the engineers. It was stupid work and had in it little of the romance which he had always associated with the work he was to do. However, he comforted himself with the thought that if it were not necessary, the Chief would never set him at it.,

The joy of the Queen at once more seeing the sun may be imagined. So unaccustomed had she grown to its light, that at first she thought it would blind her. As for Moufette, she was so quick and intelligent, that even at five or six years of age, she never failed to hit her mark, and so, in this way, the mother and daughter succeeded in somewhat lessening the ferocity of the fairy.,

The fact that Jerry was gone whirled in his head. He must find out where his comrade was. Looking down, he saw something which had escaped his first look. It was a black object bobbing about in an eddy off the main rush of the current. He could not be sure that it was Jerry. His wracked bones told him it was only driftwood—that Jerry was gone—that he could make no further effort. But his pride and determination told him he must go on. It might be Jerry and if he did not make sure he could never forgive himself.