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Mr. Hazard was as good as his word. The same night found him installed in the colonial house from which the great plantation of Crossways had formerly been managed. Now the plantation was a thing of memory only. Only the house and comparatively few cultivated acres remained of the once proud estate. Edward Moseley, the last of a long line, kept a school, which, primarily started for the benefit of his tenants’ children, had become so famous that boys from all parts of the country were now enrolled.,Jerry did not come home that night and consequently Bob was not forced to decide whether or not his room-mate was to be trusted. The next morning Mr. Whitney mentioned that he had sent Mr. Rutherford and his corps up the river to check up some topographical figures. They were to be gone several days.,“You won’t have to do that,” said Mr. Hazard with a smile.,“The Chief!” he heard Jerry pant as the footsteps ended in the hall. “Where is he?”,It was a little farther to go home around past Aunt Grenertsen’s, but he didn’t mind that, for it was interesting to watch how the apples grew and to see whether Katrina had gathered any. But day after day everything remained exactly the same. There hung the apples still—the only change being that they grew riper and riper and more tempting. Aunt Grenertsen sat gazing out of her window from behind the plants, and old Katrina, grumpy as ever, stood at the kitchen window peering over the sash curtain, in exactly the same way every day.,When the hundred years had passed away, the son of the King at that time upon the throne, and who was of a different family to that of the sleeping Princess, having been hunting in the neighbourhood, inquired what towers they were that he saw above the trees of a very thick wood. Each person answered him according to the story he had heard. Some said it was an old castle, haunted by ghosts; others, that all the witches of the country held their midnight revels there. The more general opinion, however, was that it was the abode of an ogre, and that he carried thither all the children he could catch, in order to eat them at his leisure, and without being pursued, he alone having the power of making his way through the wood.,“He’ll have to hike some,” thought Bob, “if he’s going to get back to Rutherford to-night.” Then he turned his attention to the Greaser, who had not moved out of the sprawling position he was in. The ache in Bob’s muscles became almost unbearable. When the Mexican rolled and lit another cigarette as if he expected to stay where he was all night, he was almost tempted to drop off the ladder and let the worst happen.,“Sunk, do you think?” anxiously queried Bob. “Seems to me I remember hitting a rock just an instant before—before I did my parachute act.”,With all the speed he could muster he ran towards the cable tower, thanking his stars that the control station was on this side of the river, and that he knew one of the lever men. It was this fellow’s job to dispatch the buckets and hoist and lower them.,“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” said Bob. “Once or twice we had a little trouble but all in all it was just fun. And the reason we went was because Jerry thought there might possibly be a project there.”,[77]Their boat was a wreck, they found when they came up to it. The after water-tight compartment was completely stove in. This had caused the stern to sink. Two things, however, were in their favor. The front compartment, in which they had stowed their blankets, extra clothing, matches and the transit, was still intact. Also, as the after compartment had held only their canned eatables, the ducking had not hurt them. Few of the cans had fallen out.,As far as the eye could reach, the great chasm extended. In it rose pinnacles, spires and mountain ranges, alternating with deep valleys and gulches. At the very bottom wound a tiny thread of silver, the Colorado River, for whose passage nature had undertaken such a gigantic task and, in its accomplishment, had created such beauty..