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Oh, dear! How embarrassing it was—perfectly horrid! And how they roared again as he came on to the wharf!,

The merchant, having drunk his chocolate, went out to find his horse; as he passed under a bower of roses, he remembered that Beauty had asked him to bring her one, and he plucked a branch on which several were growing. He had scarcely done so, when he heard a loud roar, and saw coming towards him a Beast, of such a horrible aspect, that he nearly fainted. "You are very ungrateful," said the Beast in a terrible voice; "I received you into my castle, and saved your life, and now you steal my roses, which I care for more than anything else in the world. Death alone can make amends for what you have done; I give you a quarter of an hour, no more, in which to ask forgiveness of God.",

I accompanied him to the convent, and the friar introduced me to his superior, a man of an intelligent mind and benevolent heart, with whom I passed some hours in interesting conversation. I believe my sentiments pleased him; for, by his indulgence, I was permitted to take abstracts of the history before me, which, with some further particulars obtained in conversation with the abate, I have arranged in the following pages.,

They found Jerry at the bunkhouse sitting in a game of poker with four or five of the cowboys. The players asked Bob to take a hand in the game but he refused. He had never played cards for money and he never intended to. Somehow, he was surprised that Jerry was playing; he had never mentioned cards, but Bob had always felt that Jerry was not that sort. He watched for a moment and saw that Jerry was evidently quite far behind. He was flushed and nervous.

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They'd better have depended.,

“Fine work!” was Bob’s comment. “Gives us time to turn around.” Then he suddenly remembered that the Indian had started the talk by advising against bringing Mr. Taylor into the emergency. “But why not get Boss Taylor?”,

"Grandmother, what long legs you have!",

Bob’s perch on the tower was far from comfortable, so he hoped the conference going on below him would last no great length of time. The thin iron rungs of the ladder cut into his legs and his arms had begun to ache from the strain of holding himself in place without making any noise that would give him away. To add to his discomfort, he soon realized that although he could overhear clearly every word that passed between the figures on the ground it would do him no good, as they were talking in Spanish, a language in which Bob remembered Jerry could at least make himself understood. Since his arrival at the dam, the Eastern boy had made some attempt to pick up a working knowledge of it, but his time had been so short that he had not got very far. Therefore, only a word here and there meant anything to him and as these were simple words, they gave no clue to what was being discussed.