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For that was just the way the trouble began. He had been walking on his tallest stilts the whole afternoon—the stilts that were exactly, to the dot, one yard fifteen inches and a half tall—and then had sat himself on the fence along the back alley. He was facing the yard, with his back toward the alley, and that disgusting Olsen boy came past and gave him a dig in the back with that sharp stick. Just think of it! Wouldn’t anybody say it was unbearable?,

Holding it as if it were glass, Bob scratched it on the hard floor. It did not light. Again he pulled it across the hard surface and a little flare spurted from the head and then died out.,

Fifteen or sixteen years had passed, when, the King and Queen being absent at one of their country houses, it happened that the Princess, while running about the castle one day, and up the stairs from one room to the other, came to a little garret at the top of a turret, where an old woman sat alone spinning with distaff and spindle, for this good woman had never heard the King's proclamation forbidding the use of the spindle.,

“Yes, I know that.”

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The officers came attended by a guard, and were every way prepared to prosecute a strenuous search through these horrible recesses.,

“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.,

Suddenly Bob remembered that he had left his job in the office without anybody’s authority. The excitement had made him forget that he had a job. Now, when everything was quiet, the realization that probably he had been missed came to him and he started to make tracks in the general direction of the office. He had not gone far, however, when he heard a familiar voice hail him from behind. It was Mr. Whitney, so he slowed up and turned.,

Really it was a delightful old wharf. Near the shore it was built on rocks and stones, but farther out there were thick piles on which the great heavy boards were laid. There was no railing, and at the extreme end a single board to which boats could be fastened projected far out over the water. The boards shone white and hot in the sun. The piles down in the water were covered with tiny shells, seaweed, and greenish slime.