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Bob wondered what had become of Jerry. Could he have gone to warn the bandits? It seemed the most likely thing, yet there was just a chance that as the plot had become so mixed up by Miguel’s failure to pull off the mining of the coffer dam, that Jerry would be busy in another direction. He might have decided to go and tell the cattlemen that a serious hitch had occurred. It was all very puzzling, especially Jerry’s sudden appearance in their room.,

As he swam nearer to the object which was swirling around in the water, it constantly eluded his grasp, but he saw that it was Jerry. It was as if the river was playing tag with him, snatching the thing he wanted out of his reach. Reason told him that Jerry was dead. What was the use of his trying to keep up this endeavor when it was all so useless? But something kept him striving, held him to his aim. He couldn’t give up. With a last despairing lunge, he shot into the eddy and caught his comrade’s shoulder. With infinite pains he swam with his prize to the bank. Safely there, he had only strength to pull it halfway out of the water.,

Jerry was first awake in the morning. He roused Bob but not until he had a fire going and the coffee-pot singing merrily. Bob got up and, slipping off his clothes, dived into the river. The water was cold but not unpleasantly so. Jerry looked at him for a minute and laughed as he came out dripping.,

Nils declared loudly: “Before I knew a thing about it, these boys rushed on board and began grabbing some of the best apples.”

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“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?”,

When the hundred years had passed away, the son of the King at that time upon the throne, and who was of a different family to that of the sleeping Princess, having been hunting in the neighbourhood, inquired what towers they were that he saw above the trees of a very thick wood. Each person answered him according to the story he had heard. Some said it was an old castle, haunted by ghosts; others, that all the witches of the country held their midnight revels there. The more general opinion, however, was that it was the abode of an ogre, and that he carried thither all the children he could catch, in order to eat them at his leisure, and without being pursued, he alone having the power of making his way through the wood.,

Soon the policeman came. “You will have to go with me to the police station,” said he to the boys. They tried to explain that Nils had invited them on board, but it availed nothing. “You go with me to the police station,” was the only reply the policeman made to anything they said.,

“Jeremias the wood-cutter is ill in bed, too,” he said suddenly.