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For a time all went well, but soon Jerry said in a whisper—somehow the dark made him whisper rather than speak aloud—“I can’t touch the roof any more, can you?” “What the dickens are you doing?” yelled the foreman of a surfacing gang, starting for the boy on a run. “Want to flood the works?” “Go and wash up and come down quickly,” urged Bob’s new boss. “It’s almost sunset, and I don’t want you to miss it! I’ll wait for you here on the porch.”.

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“You will come back,” he said. “You have smelt desert. You have helped build. You come back. I know. Feather-in-the-Wind will wait. Will be glad when you come. Adios!” In a flash Jerry saw what Bob meant, and for a second was ashamed that in the excitement he had forgotten the real object of their expedition. They were out to find a place where a dam might be built that would bring the water of life to the parched desert on the other side of the mountain—and he had forgotten all this when his personal safety was in danger. He looked up at the wall nature had built across the canyon. This time it was not as an obstruction that he saw it but as a possible location for a dam. When the boat touched the shore, he brought out the transit and set it up. Bob waited breathlessly for his decision. At last Jerry took his eye from the telescope. When at last Bob was seated in the automobile ready to start for Engle and the train that would carry him back to the East and college, a great feeling of sadness swept over him. He took a last look at the dam and the myriad activities that clustered around it, and he was sorry that he had to go. When they joined Grandmother again, she said: “It would be almost too much to ask of any one, but if the master of Kingthorpe were alive, I do believe I should have the courage to ask him for money enough to go and have my eyes operated upon, so that if possible I might see the ocean again.”.