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Wild—hideous forms are slowly seen to glide,,“A railroad goes to the job all right, Bob, but it’s meant for freight and a train runs only three times a week. The line was built by the Service and belongs to the Government. We’ve come the wrong day to catch that train.”,Bob hustled off on his errand and found the place the Chief had designated. A few blows with a stone and he had loosened the gate sufficiently to let a big stream of water flow out.,“Gee, that’s tough!” commented Bob, happy that Mr. Whitney had enough confidence to tell him all these things. “But about the Mexicans; you don’t suspect anyone around the job is the trouble maker, do you?”,Who among us has not learnt by this time to know,,“Where are your young men?” he demanded of the Indian.,“But when we did come it was our turn to be disappointed.” Here the cavalry officer took up the story. “Bob Hazard and his friends had got ahead of us too.”,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.,“How did you manage it?” put in Bob, who was thrilled with the narrative.,“You like Big Boss Whitney?”,“It was just that stupid Tellef Olsen. He bragged so much about being the strongest of all the boys”—,Deep silence..