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“And so you fought?”,Johnny Blossom grew more and more excited. He stood on the tip end of the plank that extended out over the water.,Bob got up early in order to see the Canyon at sunrise the morning after Steve Whitney went away, but found that in comparison to the sunset it was tame. Yet so inspiring was it that he was glad he had taken the trouble. The panorama spread before his eyes was one of which no other country could boast. Bob had seen pictures of it, had read about it, and had been taught about it from his geography, but nothing that he had read or heard or learned had given him even a faint idea of the glory of the thing as it actually was, no matter what time of the day it was seen.,Turn your steps—and check your ire,,A way of overcoming this obstacle came to Bob. Without wasting any more time talking he rushed down to the concrete shed to get there just as the loading gang had finished changing the great hook of the cableway from the empty bucket to a full one. The foreman had his hand raised to signal Billy to hoist away when Bob darted in and jumped onto the bucket.,Jerry used both his arms on the right hand oar and a moment later, breathless and a little exhausted, they came to quieter water.,“My dear John! You do not try lifting the child at arm’s length, as you say?”,“Lucky stiff!” he said pleasantly. “Beat me to it, didn’t you?”,There! he had it! Not that he was altogether sure of its being a text exactly, but it was so beautiful! Then Johnny Blossom, with his head on one side, his little snub nose almost touching the paper, wrote, with extraordinary slowness, because the writing was to be so very, very good:,Sheltered about,“What?” exploded the boy, anxiously.,“I don’t reckon he ought myself,” was the laconic answer. “But he does and that’s about all there’s to it as far as I can figure.”.