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“Why?” flashed Bob, quick to take advantage of Jerry’s loosened lips. “All right then, Bob,” encouraged Mr. Whitney. “Start from the beginning and tell us everything that’s happened.” “It was queer there weren’t more, but none of the apples would fall in the basket, and they would whack right down on the ground, and so they got bruised—and then we ate them, you see, Mother.”.

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“About what umbrella?” asked Tellef’s mother. Bob almost sobbed with his great disappointment. It seemed to be the end; there was nothing more to be done. He had explored the room—every nook and cranny of it—and he had come across nothing that could be used. Bob was breathing hard when they finally reached the spot where the Indian decided to stop. It was above the dam proper and on the same side of the river. Again they established a hiding place in the underbrush but this time it was near the edge of the clearing. Below them was a widening of the river where the coffer dam had been built. This was erected to divert the water of the river into the spillway, which left the river bed dry for the construction of the main dam. “Gee whiz!” ejaculated Bob. “This is worse than anything I’ve tackled before—ever!”.