But at first all he could think of was what would happen if he did not get out. Probably it meant the blowing up of the dam and machinery and a serious uprising of the Mexicans—one that would mean bloodshed. It was terrible to think of, yet he was convinced that that was the least that could be expected. The cattlemen could not hold the Mexicans in check once they had been started on the rampage.,
“Thanks, Jerry,” Whitney said seriously. Bob happened to look around and missed Feather-in-the-Wind from the group.,
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“Indeed! You have done that, have you? Well—it looks as if they had all got bruised.”,
THE unexpected certainly happened to Johnny Blossom that day. He had just swung round on the road leading toward Kingthorpe, with no thought of going the whole way, for Uncle Isaac was ill and had gone to a sanitarium, and there wasn’t the least bit of fun to be had just in Kingthorpe itself with all its elegance. So early in the summer as this there were no ripe berries in the garden; and he must not go into the stables, for Carlstrom the coachman was a regular crosspatch.,
“It’d be a big saving all right if it could,” exclaimed Jerry at last. “And I believe it will work. There’s only one thing more to find out and that is how long the tunnel is.”,
Carlstrom was a Swede, with a big black moustache whose ends stuck straight out in the air. He looked exactly like a stylish colonel to say the least—a very cross colonel though! No, there was no use going to the stable.
Shortly after dinner Johnny Blossom was out in the woodshed whittling a boat. How delightful and how queer that he should be “a credit to the school!” He would be awfully industrious now every single day; go over every lesson six times, at least.
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Bob kept quiet. They tied his arms to his[196] sides with the lasso and then one of the men went over to the pony Bob had ridden and, putting a revolver to its head, fired. Bob realized that no matter how mean a citizen a cowboy might be, he would not let an animal suffer. The shot which had dismounted him had hit the pony in one of the hind legs and had broken it.
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rmw9b-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
“I’m afraid you’re right,” was the other’s answer. “But I’m sure glad my old man isn’t[171] mixed up in it any more than he is. I s’pose you want me to go back and stick around home? Don’t want to much—things are more’n likely going to happen round here and I’d like to be on the job.”
ekkmr-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
This was too much for Bob. He flared up. “I don’t see that you’re taking me. If I want to go, I can go. You said you wanted to try it. Now you’re the one who’s backing out when the chance to try it comes along. I think it’s you who has the tender and cold feet.”
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Halin-Chen Response,
>The obscurity of the place prevented Hippolitus from distinguishing the features of the dying man. From the blood which covered him, and from the surrounding circumstances, he appeared to be murdered; and the count had no doubt that the men he beheld were the murderers. The horror of the scene entirely overcame him; he stood rooted to the spot, and saw the assassins rifle the pockets of the dying person, who, in a voice scarcely articulate, but which despair seemed to aid, supplicated for mercy. The ruffians answered him only with execrations, and continued their plunder. His groans and his sufferings served only to aggravate their cruelty. They were proceeding to take from him a miniature picture, which was fastened round his neck, and had been hitherto concealed in his bosom; when by a sudden effort he half raised himself from the ground, and attempted to save it from their hands. The effort availed him nothing; a blow from one of the villains laid the unfortunate man on the floor without motion. The horrid barbarity of the act seized the mind of Hippolitus so entirely, that, forgetful of his own situation, he groaned aloud, and started with an instantaneous design of avenging the deed. The noise he made alarmed the banditti, who looking whence it came, discovered the count through the casement. They instantly quitted their prize, and rushed towards the door of the room. He was now returned to a sense of his danger, and endeavoured to escape to the exterior part of the ruin; but terror bewildered his senses, and he mistook his way. Instead of regaining the arch-way, he perplexed himself with fruitless wanderings, and at length found himself only more deeply involved in the secret recesses of the pile.
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