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“Here I go,” responded Tellef. He sprang to the tree, gripped the trunk with his knees and was up in a trice. Vigorous shaking. Five big apples thumped to the ground.,

He took his way slowly down, hiding behind trees, looking out and then sneaking forward again, until he reached the open beach. The picnic party was still feasting merrily, making speeches and drinking one another’s health. Johnny stole along, dodging from rock to rock. Suddenly one of the ladies called out: “Mercy! there he is!” Then they all clapped their hands and shouted to him and clapped their hands again.,

The story which the marquis formerly related to his son, concerning the southern buildings, it was now evident was fabricated for the purpose of concealing the imprisonment of the marchioness. In the choice of his subject, he certainly discovered some art; for the circumstance related was calculated, by impressing terror, to prevent farther enquiry into the recesses of these buildings. It served, also, to explain, by supernatural evidence, the cause of those sounds, and of that appearance which had been there observed, but which were, in reality, occasioned only by the marquis.,

“Ugh!” grunted Feather-in-the-Wind, by way of saying yes. So, still keeping his hold on Jerry, he led the way back to the Townsite. As they marched, Bob suddenly realized that after the first yell and charge from the Indians he had not heard or seen anything of them.

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“Good-by.” He bowed, his little naked heels put together in most formal manner.,

Not until the bucket had reached the height of the cableway was he able to take any interest in looking about him. The second or so that had elapsed since he had taken passage on the concrete conveyor had been fully occupied in putting himself in a position where he could hold on and not be in danger of being tipped over the side. Worming himself around he found he could seat himself comfortably in the hook that held the bucket and clasp his arms around the great iron ball that hung just under the many sheaved pulley.,

There was no trouble in getting the goat down to the wharf, for it would follow John wherever he went. To get it into the boat was another matter, but that was accomplished at last, and they started out over the water. John rowed and Asta was to hold the goat; but suddenly it got contrary. It kicked out in spiteful fashion, put its head right against Asta’s stomach, and was altogether unruly.,

“You’re right, I guess,” he assented. “We’ve got to do it. Come on, we might as well get it over.”