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“That was tough,” said Bob sympathetically. “What’d you do then?” It was the place where the dam was to be built—where already part of it was built. From the height from which they looked the network of cables and railroad tracks and rushing ant-like figures, seemed a confused jumble without a sense of direction. But as the car coasted down the well-made road—also constructed by the Government, Bob learned later—the jumble became clearer. The cables, extending from one side of the hill to the other, carried buckets which rushed incessantly to and fro. These were lowered and hoisted seemingly by chance. The puffing engines pulled cars of rock to the crusher and backed away for new loads. The swarming men now showed themselves as workers, the directing units, and their rushing about was merely carrying out their part of the great work. Then Bob told him the news that he had been saving for next Sunday. “Come along to the Quarter-house with me and feed, and then we’ll go hunt Whiskers—I mean Mr. Whitney.”.
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Conrad
“You bet,” answered Bob. “I’ll never forget ’em.” For a moment he said nothing, letting his thoughts drift. Then—“But where is the job? You said it wasn’t here.” This satisfied the excited mob and gradually it thinned out as Whitney demanded more details from Bob. It now appeared that the marquis was poisoned by the vengeance of the woman to whom he had resigned his conscience. The consternation and distress of Ferdinand cannot easily be conceived: he hastened back to his father's chamber, but determined to conceal the dreadful catastrophe of Maria de Vellorno. This precaution, however, was useless; for the servants, in the consternation of terror, had revealed it, and the marquis had fainted. “Come, old lady,” encouraged Eric..
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