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“Well, you can sit and listen to music all day, and eat plums at the same time.”,

It was dynamite, dynamite stolen probably from the work and brought up and stored here for some evil purpose. Evidently Miguel was preparing to strike the first blow in the plot against the dam.,

“I beat, too! My, what a thrashing I gave him! Now they’ll know I am the strongest. I’d rather be strong than anything else.”,

There was no time in which to gather his nerves together. He must act and act at once. So, pulling himself up with as little noise as possible, he peered over. No Miguel was in sight. But a hundred feet down the dam was a tiny thread of white smoke shining gray in the moonlight. With a despairing sob he leaped towards it as fast as his soaked clothes would let him.

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First, he would try fishing far out over the flower beds with his rod. There! he had caught and broken off a big, dark red rose. The well was naturally a better place to fish. Johnny Blossom fished up the most incredible things from that well. He first threw them in, of course, and then it was a tremendous piece of work to get them out again—leaves, flowers, his own straw hat—yes, it was certainly an extra fine fishing rod. He would write at once to Uncle Isaac and thank him for it.,

“It is horrid, but”—great searching first in one pocket of his trousers, then in the other—“but if you will please take this report back”—,

Wasn’t there a likelihood that they were doing this to get the boy under some obligation to them? If so, it was a point against Jerry. Then, Jerry was intimate with Miguel, who undoubtedly was the leader of the dissatisfied and reckless element among the Mexican laborers. The cattlemen had no way of getting in touch with the Mexicans at the dam without being suspected of some treachery. Hence Jerry’s coming to them might possibly have been a lucky thing from their standpoint. Still all this was circumstantial and as yet Bob had no proof. But everything that happened made him more and more suspicious of Jerry’s good faith.,

“P’r’aps—p’r’aps it goes through a cave,” suggested Bob. “I’ve read about underground rivers, haven’t you?”