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“I—I think a bunch of Greasers are goin’ to raid the dam!”,“I’m fairly out of my wits with joy,” replied Grandmother.,Suddenly he glanced around the room. “Isn’t there something here I can lift?”,“I understood, Bob, how you felt. That is, all but once or twice when—Oh, but what’s the use? Of course I forgive you!” When they had shaken hands warmly the conference had a chance to proceed. O’Day took up the narrative where he had left off.,Finally it got too much for Bob and one day, taking his courage in both hands, he blurted forth, “Say, Whisk—Mr. Whitney, what’s gone wrong? Is it anything money won’t cure?” He held his breath awaiting the answer. It was a cheeky, nervy thing to do and if his boss did not take it the right way, he would be perfectly justified in sending him back to the horrible punishment of the draughting room. But he need not have worried. Mr. Whitney was too much of a big boy himself and had too much understanding not to realize that the question had been asked because anything that troubled him meant so much to the boy.,The young Indian had been right. It was Miguel. Even in the uncertain light Bob could see that he carried a queer-shaped package under his arm.,“Seriously, Bob,” went on Jerry, “the Service is good stuff, but I haven’t the same sort of feeling about it that you have. Boss Whitney is great to work for and—and all that, but I’m not so sure that there isn’t something else to do that I would like a heap better. This forestry business, for instance. It listens good to me. Big trees, the song of the band saws, all the rest of it Link has been telling us about. And if Link would only go along—”,“Why don’t you eat them?” asked another lady.,Jerry grunted an assent, too lazy to return a remark.,“I can well believe it,” said Aunt Grenertsen. “People never stay at home in these days. They are forever flying about.”,Johnny shook the brown little finger almost in Uncle Isaac’s face.,If the son of a miller so quickly could gain.