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“Bucket,” said the boy briefly.,“I don’t reckon it would be as bad as that,” answered Whitney. “When Uncle Sam once starts something, he is pretty likely to carry it through. But we’d have a rough time of it all right. If I could only find out who’s behind ’em—they are not capable of stirring it up amongst themselves—I’d be able to nip the trouble before it got started. If they do strike and we are delayed, the Water Users Association will start on the rampage again.”,Little we fear,LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD,The wind whistled in his ears and he was choked by the rapid ascent, yet the sensation was not entirely unpleasant. It was like riding in the fastest elevator he’d ever been in—at triple the speed.,This time a crash, a splintering of the wood was the result. Once more he dived into it and the next moment he was in the gray air of the early dawn.,“Fine! Fine!” answered Bob. “And it’s good to see you too. I’m awfully glad you’ve got a place for me. Is the job here at the Canyon?”,Hardly daring to breathe, he watched and hoped for a flame to spring from the wood.If it came, he had won; if not, his losing was the end of the fight. There would be no other way out.,Having ceased to sing, her fingers wandered over the lute in melancholy symphony, and for some moments she remained lost in the sweet sensations which the music and the scenery had inspired. She was awakened from her reverie, by a sigh that stole from among the trees, and directing her eyes whence it came, beheld—Hippolitus! A thousand sweet and mingled emotions pressed upon her heart, yet she scarcely dared to trust the evidence of sight. He advanced, and throwing himself at her feet: 'Suffer me,' said he, in a tremulous voice, 'to disclose to you the sentiments which you have inspired, and to offer you the effusions of a heart filled only with love and admiration.' 'Rise, my lord,' said Julia, moving from her seat with an air of dignity, 'that attitude is neither becoming you to use, or me to suffer. The evening is closing, and Ferdinand will be impatient to see you.',His joys shall dance in ev'ry eye,,Zing! A sharp report and a whistle through the air by his ear told him that Miguel had caught sight of him and hoped to stop him by means of a bullet. But Bob had to go on. Again came a shot, but this time farther from him. “Rotten shooting!” panted Bob for the wind to hear. Now he was almost at his goal. He saw that there was still a length of fuse to be burned before it got to the explosive but the smoke was moving rapidly towards him. Another bullet came. He would not have time to get to the end of the fuse before it exploded. Despairing, he was almost ready to give up.,“You are lying,” he said evenly. “Traitor!”.