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“Duck!” yelled Jerry.,

The first intimation the boys had of the approaching rapids was the increasing speed of the boat. As they looked ahead the water seemed clear and unbroken, but some current stronger than usual was hurrying them along.,

Bob hustled off on his errand and found the place the Chief had designated. A few blows with a stone and he had loosened the gate sufficiently to let a big stream of water flow out.,

Inside the big fine house there couldn’t be any fun either. Only those stately halls and magnificent rooms, one after another, with handsome furniture upholstered in silk damask, with great gold-framed mirrors, but with the shades always drawn down. The rooms were so immense that every footstep echoed in them. And oh! how careful one had to be for the sake of that miserable china that Uncle Isaac had collected so much of. In the cabinets it was no trouble, but when it stood on tiny little tables, Johnny Blossom did not like it at all. He scarcely dared to breathe when he went anywhere near the tables lest he should knock something off. Uncle Isaac had once shown him all the china and explained how old and rare and precious it was.

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A short dash for freedom was all he got, for Wesley on the other horse caught him before he had gone many steps. This time they tied his feet by means of a rope under the horse’s belly.,

“I wish we were too,” agreed Bob, warming up to Jerry’s unexpected long speech. “Isn’t there anything exciting we can do while waiting for Mr. Whitney?”,

When he reached the edge of the river Bob slipped into the water with as little noise as possible. Keeping close to the dam he found that he could make fair headway by half swimming and half walking along the slanting boards which held the Rio Grande in check. His plan was desperate, yet it was the only one that seemed feasible. Miguel would probably set a rather long fuse, one long enough to allow him to get safely away. “If I can only get there before the fuse has burned to the first stick of dynamite!” gasped Bob to himself.,

He advanced softly to the window, and beheld in a small room, which was less decayed than the rest of the edifice, a group of men, who, from the savageness of their looks, and from their dress, appeared to be banditti. They surrounded a man who lay on the ground wounded, and bathed in blood, and who it was very evident had uttered the groans heard by the count.