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Assembled there were the family and those who were connected with the estate in any way—the people from the Works and the wharf, the servants of the house and from about the place. The great room was packed so full that it was barely possible for Johnny and Lars to get inside the door.,The possibility of getting free intoxicated him and on hands and knees he searched the floor. There were other sticks. Evidently the horse thief had been given a fire and it had only been put out when he was taken away for the last time—probably to the nearest tree high enough to swing a man clear of the ground. Besides this, to Bob’s great delight, a little pile of unburnt wood was stacked in one corner. He wondered why he had not stumbled over them when he first made the circuit of the hut.,“That’s tough luck,” said Bob, thinking that if he sympathized Jerry might let something fall which would be useful. But his ruse did not work, for Jerry merely said:,Vanity often produces unreasonable alarm; but the marchioness had in this instance just grounds for apprehension; the beauty of her lord's daughters has seldom been exceeded. The person of Emilia was finely proportioned. Her complexion was fair, her hair flaxen, and her dark blue eyes were full of sweet expression. Her manners were dignified and elegant, and in her air was a feminine softness, a tender timidity which irresistibly attracted the heart of the beholder. The figure of Julia was light and graceful—her step was airy—her mien animated, and her smile enchanting. Her eyes were dark, and full of fire, but tempered with modest sweetness. Her features were finely turned—every laughing grace played round her mouth, and her countenance quickly discovered all the various emotions of her soul. The dark auburn hair, which curled in beautiful profusion in her neck, gave a finishing charm to her appearance.,Two or three Sundays after they had come to the dam, Bob and Jerry found themselves with a day on their hands.,“How the dickens do you happen to know that?” he would exclaim.,Bob grabbed it and, before it could go out, nursed the flicker in his cupped hands, not realizing that it was burning his fingers cruelly. Carefully, yet swiftly, he carried the flame to the little pile of threads. As these caught, his heart grew light with thankfulness.,As he came up the Indian held out his hand and said gravely, “Feather-in-the-Wind thanks you.” Without further word he marched off.,Their flight was swift, swooping something like a bird’s. From one tower the bucket would speed, only to stop silently and, almost before its crossways movement had ended, it would drop to the surface of the work. An instant to unload the bucket and in a flash it was up and gliding like the wind back to its starting point.,“But what about Jerry?” asked Ted. “Has he come back?”,“Perhaps I can poke her out with a stick,” suggested Johnny. But not a stick could they find, though they looked all around. In the sail-boat, however, there was the finest kind of a boat-hook.,When his captors came up he realized that Jerry was not with them and he turned to look back over the way they had come. No Jerry was in sight. Evidently as soon as real trouble started the men had decided it was better for Jerry to keep out of it..