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“All right then, Jerry,” was Mr. Whitney’s decision. “I’ll leave it to you and Feather-in-the-Wind to do with him as you like.”,“Don’t you think it might help if I got my boss, Mr. Whitney, to come down and talk to him about it?”,“And then?”,“Right,” answered the boy and the trio moved on, only to be stopped again a hundred feet further on and the same order passed.,But thoughts such as these occurred to him less and less as the distance between him and the East grew greater. By the time he dropped off the train at Williams, Arizona, where he changed to the day coach that would take him to the Grand Canyon, his mind was so full of the future that there was no room for the things he had left behind him.,Was he to die, trapped like a rat? Was this the end of his adventure? It looked very much like it. But something would not let him give up. He would make one more attempt for his life and liberty.,Bob laughed. “Well, water won’t hurt us. You’re sort of a grouch, aren’t you, Jerry?” he said pleasantly. It was a tactless thing to say, for the other boy shut up like a clam and except as it was absolutely necessary he gave no openings for further conversation.,“Dad! Dad! But I’m glad to see you!” he cried.,“Yes, he said it was balm.”,“Oh, no. These are some that got smashed and you said we might eat those.”,Her hands, the dusky hues arrange,By some chance the next picture was a lurid western romance in which Indians and cowboys were all jumbled together with furious riding and rescues of the beautiful heroine. Of course, the Indians in the picture were the villains. As the film unfolded the Mexicans grew more excited over the story and Bob noticed that they began to throw slighting remarks towards the Indian sitting directly in front of him..