Bob was facing the way in which they were going and he was conscious that it was like sliding down a great hill, for the cable above him dipped towards the center. There was little time for thought, however, as the bucket lost no time in gathering headway. At one moment it was almost still, the next it was whistling through the air.,
What a crazy idea! Glad, when it had all come about only because Uncle Isaac was dead—dear, good, kind Uncle Isaac! Every time Johnny Blossom thought of him a lump came in his throat. Then he would whistle to try to get the lump away, but whistling did not help greatly, for he was very sorry and missed Uncle Isaac so much. No, glad about it he could never be, never in the world.,
“Yes, but Father said I was to be kind to Bob, and careful of him—and I haven’t been,” sobbed Johnny. “And besides, I am the heir of Kingthorpe, you know, Mother.”.
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