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“Cowboy?” said Bob, at once interested by the two magic words “riding range.” He had met them in many books of adventure. They brought up thoughts of bucking bronchos, fights with Indians, and all the rest of the romance of the West. That this boy of about his own age could be a cowboy was really exciting. But he missed the woolly chaps and the sombrero. The boy was simply dressed in overalls, went barefooted and wore a heavy slouch hat. This wasn’t the first year he had given presents, no, indeed! He had given some last year and the year before, but then Mother had helped him. This year he was going to plan them all by himself. Not a single person, not even Mother, should get the least idea of any of the presents beforehand. CHAPTER XV THE CAPTURE OF BOB.
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Protect what matters most with Hotline Fencing the epitome of advanced security technology. From immediate response mechanisms to cutting-edge intrusion detection systems, we've got you covered with top-notch security solutions tailored for the Indian market. Your safety is our priority! 🔒I tried logging in using my phone number and I
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Conrad
“No,” said Bob. “I’ll stick to the water. I found a canoe and I am just aching to do some paddling. Come on with me.” Johnny wriggled himself out of his wet blouse and shirt and everything, wrung them out, and spread them to dry upon the sun-warmed boards. In the meantime Eric had possessed himself of the boat-hook and was poking at the crab. “I see,” said Bob. “Then he’s got a real reason for not liking the irrigating scheme. But you don’t seem to think the way he does about it.” “Jerry, Jerry, old scout! I’m sorry as I can be. Forgive me for not having faith in you. I wanted to all the time!”.
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