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“Oh, I just came to see Uncle Isaac, it is so long since I was here.”,“Johnny boy, see here! Here is something for you.”,“You are a good Dad!” cried Bob, putting an arm around the older man’s shoulders and hugging him unashamedly. “Whiskers—that is, Steve Whitney—wrote and told me to report to him as soon as I could. Then I have your permission to go West just as soon as school closes?”,Jerry recognized the type at once. It was a desert rat, one of those old men who, lured by the dream of gold, haunt the desert, usually alone. Years pass over their heads in the search which never ends. At last the gold mine that they will find some day becomes merely the excuse not the aim of the unending pilgrimage. The desert, the loneliness is claiming them. If they found a mine worth the developing, probably they would sell it and blow in the proceeds and be off again as soon as possible. They have been too long away from civilization for anything to surprise them. The desert is mysterious, the loneliness makes everything possible.,Blue-devil sprite.,“No—are you really?”,“There aren’t many persons with a sewed-on finger tip, are there, mother?” asked John, with some pride.,“Shut up!” roared Harper in his ear. “Children should be seen and not heard!” And to emphasize his remark he fetched the boy a ringing clip on the side of the head. Not having the use of his hands, Bob lost his balance and fell out of the saddle.,“Come on, Bob, let’s get a couple of horses and ride up into the range country. I hear there are some wonderful ranches farther up country.”,“Yes, we love our grand old Norway,” Johnny Blossom whistled again with great vigor.,They'd better have depended.,“You bet,” Jerry said quickly. “Don’t you think he’s had enough, Boss Whitney?”.
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