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In this he was not mistaken. Miguel produced from around his body a coil of fuse and began joining the sticks of dynamite and placing detonating caps in them. Every muscle in the boy’s body ached to jump from the hiding place and grapple with the man who was arranging such wholesale destruction, but evidently the Indian realized what was going on within him, for he felt a restraining touch on his arm. At once he knew what it meant. The Indian was telling him that it would be foolish to attack the Mexican when he had so much sudden death in his hands. Before they could reach him, no matter how swiftly they acted, the Mexican could throw the dynamite and the damage would be done. There was nothing to do but wait and hope that Miguel would give them an opening when there was more possibility of averting the catastrophe., THAT apple tree of Aunt Grenertsen’s was too tantalizing! Big, beautiful apples hung there day after day, and nobody ever seemed to think of such a thing as taking one off. Aunt Grenertsen might, for instance, so easily say to old Katrina, her housemaid: “Shake down an apple or two for Johnny Blossom”; but no indeed! Far from it. Never in the world had she suggested anything of the kind, although he had been in there every single day since the apples had begun to turn., CHAPTER VIII Uncle Isaac’s Will.