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The sweeping ruin settles o'er the land,,For several weeks before the date Bob had set as the time he must return to the East, he had received no letters from his father. Just as he was about to be a little worried, something occurred which settled all his fears.,Bob started to retrace his steps but he had not gone far before he was aware that soft footsteps were following him. He turned in his tracks and stood still. A moment later the Indian he had befriended the night before slipped up beside him.,Even the builders of the dam often felt that intervention was the only way out of a bad situation. Bob was sure that this unsettled condition was responsible for Mr. Whitney’s being away from the work at a time when matters were in such a ticklish condition.,Let us forget,,“Gee whiz!” ejaculated Bob. “This is worse than anything I’ve tackled before—ever!”,There was something so fascinating, so rhythmical in this operation, that Bob had difficulty in tearing his eyes away and concentrating on his work.,“Yes, for the most part, as their horses were fresher. While we were rounding up the stragglers, the others were so far ahead I didn’t think it worth while pursuing them further. But we’ve got enough to make an example of. It’s been a good night’s work.”,Bob gasped. He was sure that the match’s usefulness was over, but feverishly, throwing caution to the winds, he rasped the head against the planking of the door.,The man laughed. “Even the Grand Canyon can’t keep a good, healthy appetite down for long, can it? I guess supper is pretty nearly ready now. But wait a minute—here is someone I want you to know.”,"Tell your master," replied the King, "that I thank him and am pleased with his gift.",In the flare of the match Bob had recognized the newcomer. It was a Mexican, Miguel Philipe, who was an underforeman at the trap rock quarry..