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“Well, Bob,” remarked Mr. Hazard when the tale was done, “you certainly had a better time here than you would have had if you had gone to Russia with me!”,At the far edge of a group stood Lars Berget, who swung his hat in the air and ventured a faint, “Hurrah!” No one joined in it, however, for they bethought them of Uncle Isaac.,“Of course. I’m going now.” And Johnny Blossom ran at topmost speed, so as not to lose a second’s time in getting out to the little yellow horse.,Finally Bob’s father had to go back to New York. Several telegrams had come and the last one could not be disregarded. The night before he left Mr. Hazard led Bob out into the grounds. When they came to the fence, they leaned on it and started talking. The moon was up and shed its light on the flat fields. In the hum of the country stillness, only the summer whistle of the quail and the sharp plaintive cry of the whippoorwill were distinct.,“Exactly—‘deep in’—that was Conscience, little John.”,“Thank you for the drive and for the rod,” said he, bowing.,To the boys’ great joy, they found they had come out of the canyon at a point only twenty miles from the railroad. They determined to hike for it the next day. Before they started the next morning, Bob had an idea.,Assembled there were the family and those who were connected with the estate in any way—the people from the Works and the wharf, the servants of the house and from about the place. The great room was packed so full that it was barely possible for Johnny and Lars to get inside the door.,Some time for a husband to wait,But Bob was so queer today. And he breathed so strangely. He had been breathing something like that these last few days, but today it was worse, and he didn’t hurry even when Johnny struck him again with the whip. Finally he almost stopped, and breathed more queerly than ever.,“I’m sorry that I inflicted it all upon you, Bob. I was sort of acting the cry baby, wasn’t I?”,Dead silence for a long time..
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