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The road was very steep and he almost slid down, landing right near the shanty where Tellef lived. Oh, dear! What was to be done next? It would be very embarrassing to say to Tellef that he felt ashamed of himself. How could he do it?,It was queer, but the minute you were inside that gate you felt quiet, almost solemn, and like behaving your very best. Everything was orderly and stately and peaceful. The trees were very old and very tall, with wonderfully broad, full crowns. The lawns were very spacious, with not a single twig on the grass anywhere, and the paths were always smooth, as if freshly raked.,The door was fastened by strong iron bolts, which Hippolitus vainly endeavoured to draw. The voices drew near. After much labour and difficulty the bolts yielded—the door unclosed—and light dawned upon them through the mouth of a cave, into which they now entered. On quitting the cave they found themselves in the forest, and in a short time reached the borders. They now ventured to stop, and looking back perceived no person in pursuit.,“Mother! Mother!” shrieked Asta. “Here’s a piece of a finger, with your big shears, lying on the attic stairs!”,When the jolting train stopped at the last station, the boy stepped off almost at Whiskers’ side. Dropping his suit case, he caught the hand that was stretched out to him and was happy when he saw the man’s grin of welcome.,“That will help us a heap,” was Ted’s idea. “We won’t have to worry about their taking a hand in our game!”,One hot noontide he and Eric lay on the wharf in the baking sunshine. It was not Pilot Taraldsen’s wharf near the house, but the old wharf beyond the woods.,Johnny stood still, unconsciously kicking a big hole in the path as he meditated. Perhaps it would be just as well to go straight back home again without seeing Uncle Isaac; but no—he really needed a quarter terribly today; and on he ran through the grounds and burst in at the big entrance door of Kingthorpe.,Steve Whitney shook his head. “No—but I’ll tell you all about it as we go to the hotel. Grab your satchel and come along.”,Neither boy had the energy to lift a finger. They were dead tired and the mere fact of doing nothing was infinitely enjoyable. They had a whole day of this, for it was not until the following morning that an answer came to their wire. It proved to be from the Boss and had been sent from Washington.,Choked, stifling with the intense heat, Bob fell on his face, remembering that smoke always rises.,The work on the dam had gone smoothly since Mr. Whitney had taken the job over. Except for minor accidents, nothing really bothersome had happened to delay the work in any way, yet Bob, who was now constantly with the Chief, realized that something was bothering the man he was so fond of. Gone was the half chummy, half paternal air of Mr. Whitney. He was irritable and not at all himself..