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He was just sick and tired of seeing those apples in that good-for-nothing garden. Good-for-nothing it certainly was, and very, very old. There was only one apple tree besides the one Johnny was so interested in, but its fruit could scarcely be called apples at all. He would call them croquet balls—such hard green things as they were—hard as rocks. Of course if any of them were on the ground, he bit into them. In fact, he had eaten a good many of them first and last, but they were horrid things, anyway. “You may bring me the fishing rod,” said Father. “You bet,” answered Bob. “I’ll never forget ’em.” For a moment he said nothing, letting his thoughts drift. Then—“But where is the job? You said it wasn’t here.”.

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Zing! A sharp report and a whistle through the air by his ear told him that Miguel had caught sight of him and hoped to stop him by means of a bullet. But Bob had to go on. Again came a shot, but this time farther from him. “Rotten shooting!” panted Bob for the wind to hear. Now he was almost at his goal. He saw that there was still a length of fuse to be burned before it got to the explosive but the smoke was moving rapidly towards him. Another bullet came. He would not have time to get to the end of the fuse before it exploded. Despairing, he was almost ready to give up. The giant now told them that he had received a message from his master, and that if the Princess would agree to marry a nephew of his, the Dragon would let her live; that the nephew was young and handsome; that, moreover, he was a Prince, and that she would be able to live with him very happily. This proposal somewhat lessened their grief; the Queen spoke to the Princess, but found her still more averse to this marriage than to the thought of death. "I cannot save my life by being unfaithful," said Moufette. "You promised me to Prince Moufy, and I will marry no one else; let me die; my death will ensure the peace of your lives." The King then came and endeavoured with all the tenderest of expressions to persuade her; but nothing moved her, and finally it was decided that she should be conducted to the summit of a mountain, and there await the Dragon. Master Cat, who still kept in advance of the party, came up to some reapers, and said to them, "You, good people, who are reaping, if you do not say that all this corn belongs to my Lord the Marquis of Carabas, you shall all be cut into pieces as small as minced meat." Bob kept still, feeling that he would soon know what Miguel planned to do with the explosive, for if whatever plan the Mexican had conceived was not to be consummated to-night, it was evident that he would have buried the additional stuff he had brought instead of digging up his cache..