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“Yes,” said Mother. So Johnny Blossom said his prayers with his eyes tightly squeezed together, and fell asleep immediately after. His reverie was broken by a nudge on the arm. He looked up to see a shadow darting along the path. Nearer and nearer it came until it passed almost close enough to the point where they were sitting to be touched by Bob’s hand should he thrust it from cover. As he spoke Bob did not flinch before the threatening attitude of the two cowboys. “You little shrimp,” said Wesley. “I’ve got half a mind to wring your neck and throw you in the bushes.”.

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Feather-in-the-Wind had become separated from them, but his plan had worked! This was Bob’s first thought, but his exultation was cut short by the most surprising event of this eventful night! "It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood," answered the Wolf, imitating the child's voice. "I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you." The good grandmother, who was ill in bed, called out, "Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up." The Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. He leaped on to the poor old woman, and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been three days without food. He then shut the door again, and laid himself down in the grandmother's bed, to wait for Little Red Riding-Hood. Presently she came and knocked at the door: tap, tap. “Then that was what you meant when you told us that the laborers wouldn’t be any bother, was it?” asked Bob. Just as the crowd was growing weary, the roar of a high powered gasoline engine drowned out the noise they were making. With the muffler cut out open and the exhaust snapping explosions like the reports of young cannon, a car dashed down the street and stopped with a jerk. Out of it hopped Big Boss Whitney..