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“Why not?” asked Bob.,

During the absence of the marquis from his castle, Ferdinand, who had been informed of the discovery of Julia, effected his escape from imprisonment, and had hastened to the monastery in the design of rescuing her. He had passed the woods in disguise, with much difficulty eluding the observation of the marquis's people, who were yet dispersed round the abbey. To the monastery, as he came alone, he had been admitted without difficulty.,

When he reached the edge of the river Bob slipped into the water with as little noise as possible. Keeping close to the dam he found that he could make fair headway by half swimming and half walking along the slanting boards which held the Rio Grande in check. His plan was desperate, yet it was the only one that seemed feasible. Miguel would probably set a rather long fuse, one long enough to allow him to get safely away. “If I can only get there before the fuse has burned to the first stick of dynamite!” gasped Bob to himself.,

“Listen. Big Boss thinks the Mexicans will start trouble. Does not know what man is responsible—what man is saying big words and starting trouble. You can help if you find out and tell me who the man is.”

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“Oh, yes; but for all that I knew Mr. and Mrs. Lind would be angry. I knew that perfectly well. But I went, and then I wasn’t a credit to the school; so if you will please take this report back”—,

When the carriage stopped at the garden gate at home, Carlstrom asked whether the young gentleman would not like to ride on the new saddle horse. He could guarantee that it was safe. Now indeed was Johnny Blossom altogether dumbfounded. What had got into Carlstrom today? He was usually so cross.,

Well, there was nothing to do about it. He had no more cards so he should have to use this. With a dark brown paper frame and a red cord it would not be so bad after all. Johnny Blossom put his head first on one side and then on the other and scrutinized the card as a whole. No, it really was not bad.,

Mr. Hazard was as good as his word. The same night found him installed in the colonial house from which the great plantation of Crossways had formerly been managed. Now the plantation was a thing of memory only. Only the house and comparatively few cultivated acres remained of the once proud estate. Edward Moseley, the last of a long line, kept a school, which, primarily started for the benefit of his tenants’ children, had become so famous that boys from all parts of the country were now enrolled.