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“What are you talking about, boy?”,He groped his way along a winding passage, and at length came to a flight of steps. Notwithstanding the darkness, he reached the bottom in safety.,“Wash yourself thoroughly,” she said. Oh, yes! That was what Mother always said. John showed her two red ears he had scrubbed, but she wasn’t satisfied. Oh, dear! How many bothersome crinkles and crannies there were in an ear, anyway!,There was very little more chance for conversation, as they were rapidly approaching a low, adobe house surrounded by outbuildings which were evidently stables and laborers’ houses. When they galloped in they were hailed by a bunch of cowboys who were perched on the corral fence. Jerry answered them with a shout and waved his hand but continued to lead the way to the main building. On the porch two men were sitting in chairs tilted up against the wall. Jerry introduced Bob to them.,“Thank you kindly, sir. It won’t be lonesome now that I have that to look at,” and his crooked finger pointed up to the little brown paper frame hanging by its red cord.,“That was awfully well done, Johnny Blossom! Only twelve minutes.”,Feather-in-the-Wind, while preserving his customary dignity, was genuinely sorry to see him go.,“Why not?” returned the other. “It looks like the only way we can go, doesn’t it?”,When he came to the surface, Bob’s first sensation was one of extreme weariness. So spent was he that it was all he could do to keep himself afloat. The possibility of another shot from Miguel did not spur him to dodging in the water. If the shot was to come, it would. Bob knew that he was alive, therefore the danger which threatened the dam was over. This being the case, a great contentment came to him—what could happen to him now mattered very little.,But it was in similar canyons, smaller, perhaps, that the Service built its dams. Down the sides of cliffs like these, which even the mountain goats had difficulty in mastering, the Service had to build its roads. It was to such desolate beauty that the Service brought progress and the service of mankind. In his imagination Bob saw the smooth face of an enormous dam filling even this great canyon,—generating enough horse power to run all the factories of the West, and collecting enough water to irrigate all the homes that could be made on the great American desert. Right then nothing was too stupendous a task for final achievement. His whole being thrilled with the thought that he was to be a part of the Service, that he was to have a hand in the great work that it was doing and would do.,“He’s a cattleman,” said the boy, as if that explained everything.,Indeed he wasn’t a rascal. The whole thing had just happened of itself. It was no plan of his, but it was just as unlucky as if it had been..