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“You’d have done the same thing for me,” returned Bob, anxious to get off the subject. “Let’s talk about the dam site.”,“Did she? And how many did Aunt Grenertsen get?”,Suddenly the still and silent air was rent by a noise that has no equal in the world. It was the blood-curdling war whoop of an Indian. Coming so close to their ears, although they had been expecting it, the boys nearly jumped out of their skins with terror.,“May I ask whether it was you that took the boat-hook out of my sail-boat?”,This was signed with nothing less than the Principal’s name. Not just a teacher’s—no, thank you! A credit to the school. The whistling grew louder and more piercing. A credit to the school. He was going straight to Father with this report, and would lay it right under Father’s nose.,Stolidly the man took his orders and stumped out. When he was gone Mr. Whitney’s assistant turned to Bob.,Once again on the piazza Jerry said, “What is it?”,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.,So the two boys spent their Sunday apart. The canoe had belonged to one of the engineers who had left for another project, and the storekeeper who had bought it was willing to rent it out. Bob decided to go down stream the first day and take a look at the land which would be irrigated by the water stored up by the dam when it was finished. He took his lunch with him as he expected to make an all day trip of it.,But Bob, who was at the oars, pulled towards the bank. “Just a jiffy, Jerry, I’ve got a hunch. Why couldn’t a dam be built here?”,He was off, leaping up the steep road. Christina looked at the money and then at the disappearing boy and said, “How queer he was!”,“Yes. They rowed me ashore from the steamer.”.