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“Meet Feather-in-the-Wind by rock crusher to-night,” he whispered swiftly, but cautiously. “No, I reckon I’ll let you go alone. Me for the high places!” “Yes, but it is so sad.”.
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Conrad
The next morning Johnny awoke early and was wide awake at once. That fishing rod from Uncle Isaac—out on the veranda—suppose some one had taken it! He put on his clothes in the greatest haste. Later he would wash himself and dress properly, but the only thing now was to see whether the fishing rod was safe. Yes, wonderfully enough, there it was. No one had touched it, so far as he could see. In sweet illapses meet the sight, Most obliging and sweet in their way, “Gee, if the Greasers struck it would tie us up for fair,” broke in Bob anxiously. “Except for the mechanics, and that bunch of Indians from the reservation, they are about all we’ve got. We would have to shut down, wouldn’t we?”.
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