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“Good day, John! Now this is very kind of you to come to me, away out here.”,

And he was to ask every one he wished to! Hurrah for that, too! All the boys in his class, of course; and all the boys in the next higher; why, yes, and those little fellows in the class below. And Tellef! And Tellef’s sisters and mother and the grandmother—she could see now—yes, he must have her. Then all those old women at the almshouse. And the workmen at the wharf and the Works—they must come with their families.,

“Why?” Bob wanted to know.,

JOHNNY BLOSSOM was the only child present among all the people who had assembled to hear the reading of Uncle Isaac’s will. He had wished that he might go home instead of roaming aimlessly, as he had been doing for a long time, about the grounds which seemed today more solemnly quiet than ever.

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The time was to come sooner than either Taylor or Whitney expected. The Chief Engineer had been so busy familiarizing himself with all the details of the outside work that he had spent little time in the office and so had not often seen Bob. Not an activity, from the operation of the railway branch to the pouring of a new batch of concrete on the dam itself, had escaped his inspection. He wanted to know all the foremen of the different gangs, to size them up, and to gain their personal loyalty. The long experience he had had in bossing men, taught him that being human and approachable did not impair discipline. Besides, in times of emergency, the men could be more counted on.,

Despair instantly renewed his vigour; he started from the ground, and throwing round him a look of eager desperation, his eye caught the glimpse of a small door, upon which the moon-beam now fell. He made towards it, and passed it just as the light of a torch gleamed upon the walls of the vault.,

Jerry recognized the type at once. It was a desert rat, one of those old men who, lured by the dream of gold, haunt the desert, usually alone. Years pass over their heads in the search which never ends. At last the gold mine that they will find some day becomes merely the excuse not the aim of the unending pilgrimage. The desert, the loneliness is claiming them. If they found a mine worth the developing, probably they would sell it and blow in the proceeds and be off again as soon as possible. They have been too long away from civilization for anything to surprise them. The desert is mysterious, the loneliness makes everything possible.,

“But, Jerry, how about the Labyrinth? We found it—don’t you want to have a hand in what happens next?”