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“Here are the apples, Aunt Grenertsen. Aren’t they beauties?”,The officers apprehending that the banditti had overcome the guard, rushed back to the trapdoor, which they had scarcely lifted, when they heard a clashing of swords, and a confusion of unknown voices. Looking onward, they beheld through the arch, in an inner sort of court, a large party of banditti who were just arrived, rescuing their comrades, and contending furiously with the guard.,“Just out on a little jaunt. Where did you come from?”,The bunch of Mexicans Jerry had sent off on the wild goose chase the night of the raid came straggling into camp during the early hours of the morning, to find that a tight ring of guards had been made around their section of the lower camp. When they attempted to get through they were put under arrest and during the day were loaded on a train and shipped to the border to be sent back into their native country. The captured bandits were delivered to General Pershing’s headquarters to await trial.,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.,Madame de Menon, who loved Julia with maternal affection, was an interested observer of all that passed at the castle. The cruel fate to which the marquis destined his daughter she had severely lamented, yet she could hardly rejoice to find that this had been avoided by elopement. She trembled for the future safety of her pupil; and her tranquillity, which was thus first disturbed for the welfare of others, she was not soon suffered to recover.,When on a dead run he reached the foot of the hill, all the Mexicans had gone, fleeing from what they supposed was a trap.,“Is it anything to worry about when a horse breathes?” scoffed Gunnar Olsen. “He breathed like a bellows when I rode, but yet I took only eight minutes and four seconds.”,“How did the harvesting of Aunt Grenertsen’s apples go this afternoon?” asked Mother.,Uncle Isaac lay in the big carved bedstead. My, oh, my! how pale he was! almost as pale as Jeremias the wood-cutter.,As he made his way back to the upper camp, Bob realized that in all probability he had done a foolish thing to mix in on a quarrel between the Mexicans and the Indians. That probably would mark him out among the Mexicans as someone unfriendly to them and it might have been better if he had stayed in the background. But the sight of the crowd jumping on the solitary Indian had been too much for him.,“Don’t bother about the oars,” said Bob, his voice echoing from the walls of the passage. “It’s too dark for ’em. Try to get a hold on the roof.”.