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“It was good of you,” he said as gravely as the Indian had spoken. “But you can help me further perhaps.” After having gone deep into the pool, Bob came to the surface, his lungs bursting. One side of his body was numb from the impact of his fall on the surface of the water. Aside from this, he was little the worse for his experience. “Nope,” said the other. “Dad don’t want me to be a cowboy. I wouldn’t mind that much. He wants me to be a farm hand! Nix on that! I wish I could go up to the dam. That’s regular work. Reckon I could get a job up there?”.

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One thing only served to disturb his perfect enjoyment: This was a conviction not to be denied, that his father was hurt by his action. As he thought over their talks he knew that underneath the approval his father had given, lay a deep disappointment. That Bob would not be a lawyer was a hard blow; the knowledge that his son’s choice of an occupation in life would mean almost constant separation, must hurt the elder Hazard, who thought the world of his only son. “And I was too late,” put in the boy. “Bob had beaten me to it. I was sure some glad when I found the old wall was safe. It was the thing I feared most as I rode for the soldiers—that Miguel would give the signal before I could get back. I sort of had a hunch that it was Bob who had had a hand in it and I went to his room to tell him I was on his side. But you wouldn’t let me, Bob,” he finished. He found Madame de Menon and his sisters awaiting his return in the most painful anxiety; and, thus disappointed in all his endeavours to penetrate the secret of these buildings, and fatigued with fruitless search, he resolved to suspend farther enquiry. Aunt Grenertsen had lived in the little house on King Street for an age, ever since he could remember; and everything she had was very old-fashioned. There was a cuckoo clock, and a blue glass jar with dried rose-leaves in; and on the window sill an old gray cat blinked and purred among the plants..