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“No.” The answer was final and assured. “But I wouldn’t put it beyond a lot of the stock and cattlemen around here. They’ve been sore about the dam, with as little reason as they have on every job the Service has tackled. They always end by being a lot better off with the project finished than they ever would have been if the range had been left alone. At first they can’t help but suffer some annoyance from the building of the dam. A good part of the land which we will irrigate, while not sufficiently productive to be good farming land, raises enough natural grass to feed stock. Above the dam the stored water will form a lake that will cover thousands of acres of such pasturage, I’ll admit. But the cattlemen are so blind that this point is all that they can see. They will have the same chance to profit by the irrigated lands below. It has always worked out well in the end.” “Humph! It’s very likely that they paid their respects to such a great man as you!” said Olea. Indeed, they wouldn’t go into the water! Oh, the horrid little goat!.

He bowed, and without offering his hand--which it is very probable Major Jen would have refused to take--he left the room. When the door closed the older man sank into a chair and passed his hand across a brow moist with perspiration.I tried logging in using my phone number and I was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call me instead" option twice but didn't get a call either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call me instead fails.There was "Ah, my friend, there comes in the riddle."

“But what are you doing down here?” “No, I was just thinking about that,” replied John. “I was thinking that perhaps I had better say, ‘Now I lay me’ and ‘Our Father’ both tonight, on account of the finger tip and the five cents and everything else today, Mother.” And John looked inquiringly up at his mother to see whether she approved. “The Chief!” he heard Jerry pant as the footsteps ended in the hall. “Where is he?” Johnny Blossom hastened to get Mother’s sharpest scissors—the big shiny ones—for he intended to cut some long strips of stout cloth to tie the goat’s legs with. Johnny cut and cut. Suddenly the big blades slipped, caught Johnny’s little finger, and before he knew it, had cut the tip of it clean off! It hurt awfully—oh, well—not so terribly after all; but my, oh, my! how it bled! Johnny Blossom bound his not over-clean handkerchief around it, but still the blood came. Now it was all over his trousers. Perhaps he had better hide until it stopped..