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A few minutes later a slim shadow rose out of the chaparral. Feather-in-the-Wind spoke in his own language to this newcomer. Evidently this was the brave who had kept note of Miguel’s comings and goings. The conference over, Bob’s friend uttered the one word, “Wait!” and sat down. The other Indian slipped away. Bob followed the example of Feather-in-the-Wind.,

“How did you manage it?” put in Bob, who was thrilled with the narrative.,

At last he passed the sluice gates which marked the center of the dam. A few rods further on he knew he must climb up and look over.,

“Good afternoon, Johnny Blossom.”

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She shrunk involuntarily at the sound, and pursuing the windings of the cavern, fled into its inmost recesses. Here she had not been long when the voices sounded through the cave, and drew near. It was now evident that Hippolitus was conquered, and that her enemies were in search of her. She threw round a look of unutterable anguish, and perceived very near, by a sudden gleam of torchlight, a low and deep recess in the rock. The light which belonged to her pursuers, grew stronger; and she entered the rock on her knees, for the overhanging craggs would not suffer her to pass otherwise; and having gone a few yards, perceived that it was terminated by a door. The door yielded to her touch, and she suddenly found herself in a highly vaulted cavern, which received a feeble light from the moon-beams that streamed through an opening in the rock above.,

[188]Bob instinctively liked the man who was showing him what had been done to reclaim the desert. By the time they got back to the house they had become good friends and the man had asked the boy to come up and visit the ranch again.,

"Yes, but am I to go in these dirty old clothes?" Her godmother touched her lightly with her wand, and in the same instant her dress was changed into one of gold and silver, covered with precious stones. She then gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the world. When she was thus attired, she got into the coach; but her godmother told her, above all things, not to stay past midnight—warning her, that if she remained at the ball a minute longer, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her horses, mice, her footmen, lizards, and her clothes turn again into her old ones. She promised her godmother that she would not fail to leave the ball before midnight, and drove off, almost out of her mind with joy.,

It was weeks before there came a break in the monotony of his work. He had forced himself to be cheerful about his stupid job and not to show by the least sign that he was not entirely content with the work he had been set to do. Mr. Taylor, who since the advent of the Chief, had taken charge of the office work, spoke to Mr. Whitney. “That boy, Hazard, is a good lad,” he said. “Although the plucky beggar won’t own up, I think he is eating his heart out at the draughting board. I can get along without him, so give him a chance outside if you can.”