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'It is now then my turn to be satisfied,' replied the marquis, 'and till I am, not one of you shall stir. Open me that door.'—'My lord!'—'Nay,' said the marquis, assuming a look of stern authority—'dispute not my commands. I am not to be trifled with.',

“Yes, for the most part, as their horses were fresher. While we were rounding up the stragglers, the others were so far ahead I didn’t think it worth while pursuing them further. But we’ve got enough to make an example of. It’s been a good night’s work.”,

“Meantime, where’s Mr. Taylor? He’d help—”,

That afternoon Johnny Blossom sat crouched on the stone steps leading to the road. The fishing rod lay beside him, but he did not feel like going fishing. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, thinking of Uncle Isaac. It might easily be that just now, this minute, Uncle Isaac stood outside that great golden gate—the gate that leads into Paradise—and knocked on it. To think that God can hear a man’s little knock. Why, that gate is surely as big as—yes, as the tallest pine tree over there, and all of gleaming gold; and God looks and throws the gate wide open of course, for he sees it is Uncle Isaac. And so Uncle Isaac goes into the Kingdom of Heaven.

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“I’m afraid you’re right,” was the other’s answer. “But I’m sure glad my old man isn’t[171] mixed up in it any more than he is. I s’pose you want me to go back and stick around home? Don’t want to much—things are more’n likely going to happen round here and I’d like to be on the job.”,

So the two boys spent their Sunday apart. The canoe had belonged to one of the engineers who had left for another project, and the storekeeper who had bought it was willing to rent it out. Bob decided to go down stream the first day and take a look at the land which would be irrigated by the water stored up by the dam when it was finished. He took his lunch with him as he expected to make an all day trip of it.,

Panting, struggling, gasping, he fought on. His mind was filled with the horror of what would happen should he be too late. There was no way of telling how far Miguel had gone. The dam that kept him hidden from the Mexican, also hid the Mexican from him. He must—he must go on until he was well past the center of the dam—Miguel would do the job thoroughly if at all. Once there he must go through a fresh ordeal. He must climb out of the water and look over the edge of the dam in order to get his bearings and to find out where the Mexican had lit the fuse. Should he look over at the wrong spot and Miguel see him, it was the end—the end probably of his life and surely the finish of the coffer dam.,

ANY ONE would be sick of it! thought Johnny Blossom. He couldn’t even appear in the street without people rushing to him to question and pry as to how it had happened, and how he had felt that time he lay out on the red buoy and they all thought at home that he was drowned. He was completely sick of it.