It was a fine little boat. Johnny was captain and commanded grandly, giving many orders to the postmaster’s sons—those silly pipestems from Christiania, who did not know anything.,
“Jerry, Jerry, old scout! I’m sorry as I can be. Forgive me for not having faith in you. I wanted to all the time!”,
When the men got their cigars lighted they began to talk. Whitney was of course anxious to know what the situation was on the job he was to tackle in the morning. If the laborers were satisfied, how the work was progressing, and a thousand and one other things he needed to know bubbled forth. The assistant engineer was a veritable mine of information. Practically every question was answered without a moment’s hesitation. Bob was contented to sit and listen, drinking in all the information he could. This was the Reclamation Service and to-morrow would see him taking an active part in the work..
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