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The bunkhouses seemed deserted. If there were any Mexicans inside they were doing their best to play dead. The crowd seemed to think that the laborers were the ones who had started the trouble and they were shouting, daring the Greasers to come out and start something. But there was no answer from the inside.,

Ferdinand, in the stillness and solitude of his dungeon, brooded over the late calamity in gloomy ineffectual lamentation. The idea of Hippolitus—of Hippolitus murdered—arose to his imagination in busy intrusion, and subdued the strongest efforts of his fortitude. Julia too, his beloved sister—unprotected—unfriended—might, even at the moment he lamented her, be sinking under sufferings dreadful to humanity. The airy schemes he once formed of future felicity, resulting from the union of two persons so justly dear to him—with the gay visions of past happiness—floated upon his fancy, and the lustre they reflected served only to heighten, by contrast, the obscurity and gloom of his present views. He had, however, a new subject of astonishment, which often withdrew his thoughts from their accustomed object, and substituted a sensation less painful, though scarcely less powerful. One night as he lay ruminating on the past, in melancholy dejection, the stillness of the place was suddenly interrupted by a low and dismal sound. It returned at intervals in hollow sighings, and seemed to come from some person in deep distress. So much did fear operate upon his mind, that he was uncertain whether it arose from within or from without. He looked around his dungeon, but could distinguish no object through the impenetrable darkness. As he listened in deep amazement, the sound was repeated in moans more hollow. Terror now occupied his mind, and disturbed his reason; he started from his posture, and, determined to be satisfied whether any person beside himself was in the dungeon, groped, with arms extended, along the walls. The place was empty; but coming to a particular spot, the sound suddenly arose more distinctly to his ear. He called aloud, and asked who was there; but received no answer. Soon after all was still; and after listening for some time without hearing the sounds renewed, he laid himself down to sleep. On the following day he mentioned to the man who brought him food what he had heard, and enquired concerning the noise. The servant appeared very much terrified, but could give no information that might in the least account for the circumstance, till he mentioned the vicinity of the dungeon to the southern buildings. The dreadful relation formerly given by the marquis instantly recurred to the mind of Ferdinand, who did not hesitate to believe that the moans he heard came from the restless spirit of the murdered Della Campo. At this conviction, horror thrilled his nerves; but he remembered his oath, and was silent. His courage, however, yielded to the idea of passing another night alone in his prison, where, if the vengeful spirit of the murdered should appear, he might even die of the horror which its appearance would inspire.,

“It’s hard to escape from a gang of tramps once you’re in it. Not for two years was I able to pull it off. Finally I got my chance to beat it. Somehow, the sight of kids going to school had given me a hankering for an education of some sort and I was ashamed that all I could do was spell out the newspaper and read a time-table.”,

“One day the Kid sent me out to rustle a hand-out. We were in Iowa at that time, just when they were bringing in the wheat harvest. I went up to a farmhouse and started my spiel on a lady who came to the door. She let me finish what I had to say, took me in and without a word gave me a big spread. But when I got through she made up for her silence. She began jawing at me just as a mother might.”

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“Not so’s you could notice it. We had an awful fight to-day and I just up and left. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Do you think there is a chance of my hooking on? I’ve got to have it because I haven’t any money to go any further hunting one.”,

“The next time we get to a shallow spot, Jerry,” he ordered between strokes, “take hold of the painter and jump out. We must bring the bow up stream.”,

All the suspicions of Jerry’s attitude that he had fought down, came back in a rush and were not lessened when he saw by the signs of greeting displayed by Miguel, that Jerry was the person he expected to see.,

Around her throne, amid the mingling glooms,