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All the old women laughed, and Johnny said, “Welcome to Kingthorpe, then, on Saturday,” and bowed and went his way. “You’re with us—the Service, I mean—aren’t you?” finished Bob seriously. “Even if it means going against what your father thinks is best?” Next it was the telegraph operator, Mr. Nilsen. “Well, I must say! If here isn’t the person every one is talking about—and as large as life!”.
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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. “Not a bit—only wish I’d thought of it. Was the old man pleased?” The intense desert sun, however, woke them early to the realization of their weary muscles. Bob was up first and disturbed Jerry’s slumbers by a sudden peal of laughter. While high in air, amid the rising storm,.
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