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But Jerry was not to be put off. He had come very close to death and it had shaken him out of his reserve. Bob had saved him and he wanted to thank him, to show his gratitude. Jerry had jollied and cheered up Bob during the long tramp, for Bob, while more adapted to the water, found himself at a disadvantage beside his new chum when it came to navigating the desert. When at last they made the track, they were footsore and weary. Finishing their last bit of water, the boys started to walk the ties in the direction they thought the nearest station must be. But after a few steps Bob refused to go farther. Yet so ardently onwards they press,.

“Hev ye ben doin’ suthin’ bad? Dassn’t ye go git yer things?”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 “That is all I can stand now,” he said. “It is too wonderful.”

As he spoke Bob did not flinch before the threatening attitude of the two cowboys. “You little shrimp,” said Wesley. “I’ve got half a mind to wring your neck and throw you in the bushes.” For that was just the way the trouble began. He had been walking on his tallest stilts the whole afternoon—the stilts that were exactly, to the dot, one yard fifteen inches and a half tall—and then had sat himself on the fence along the back alley. He was facing the yard, with his back toward the alley, and that disgusting Olsen boy came past and gave him a dig in the back with that sharp stick. Just think of it! Wouldn’t anybody say it was unbearable? Bob’s perch on the tower was far from comfortable, so he hoped the conference going on below him would last no great length of time. The thin iron rungs of the ladder cut into his legs and his arms had begun to ache from the strain of holding himself in place without making any noise that would give him away. To add to his discomfort, he soon realized that although he could overhear clearly every word that passed between the figures on the ground it would do him no good, as they were talking in Spanish, a language in which Bob remembered Jerry could at least make himself understood. Since his arrival at the dam, the Eastern boy had made some attempt to pick up a working knowledge of it, but his time had been so short that he had not got very far. Therefore, only a word here and there meant anything to him and as these were simple words, they gave no clue to what was being discussed. “How the dickens do you happen to know that?” he would exclaim..