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He went in search of little Day, and found him with a tiny foil in his hand, fencing with a great monkey, though he was only three years old. He carried the child to his wife, who hid him where she had hidden his sister, and then cooked a very tender little kid in the place of little Day, which the ogress thought wonderfully good. All had gone well enough so far, but one evening this wicked Queen said to the head cook, "I should like to eat the Queen with the same sauce that I had with the children.",

Jerry answered shortly, “Yes.”,

The talk went on mostly about the Canyon. Bob noticed, however, that Jerry King took very little part in the conversation. He didn’t seem exactly unwilling to talk, but his remarks were few and far between. And when they came they were short and matter of fact. Mr. Whitney appeared not to notice this much. It was rather as if he was used to Jerry’s manner. But Bob, however, felt that he was going to have a hard job in thawing out this chap who was to be his companion through the summer. He wanted to make friends but Jerry seemed to repulse every advance he made.,

“Not that, it was horrible; and people can hear you away down the road.”

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“No, don’t do that,” put in Taylor. “This is a Federal job and we don’t want the county in on it. Go to it alone.”,

The others went each in turn, all making fine speed. Johnny Blossom gave Bob two lumps of sugar after every trip.,

“He’s a bad egg,” was the comment of Tim Flannigan, the engineer of the dinky that pulled the rock cars from the quarry to the crusher. “He’s all the time startin’ somethin’ down to the Townsite. He’s got a game cock that nobody kin lick, and the marshal has had him up several times for gambling. Tried to run him out of camp a bit back but such a gang of Greasers threatened to leave with him that Boss Adams, who was here before Boss Whitney came, told the marshal to keep a close eye on him and let it go at that.”,

As he pondered his problem, his fingers had been playing with the loose button that had been in his pocket, and now it slipped from his hand and rolled off on the dirt floor toward the center of the room. Rather aimlessly, he reached out and groped for it. As his hand swept the floor it came in contact with a fine, floury substance. “Ashes,” was his thought. An inch or so farther and he gripped an object that he felt to be a half burned stick of wood.