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“That’s the spirit,” said Whiskers. “As I said before, it is good work. The reward is not all in the pay you get. It is in the achievement and the service that you render. That is all that you can look forward to in the way of payment. But I have talked too long. You must be tired after your long trip. You’d better chase off to bed.” “Dad! Dad! But I’m glad to see you!” he cried. “It’s been a cinch so far, but just wait. We’ve not started to get into trouble yet. We’ll get ours all right before we’re through.”.

The room was very dark at first, and little whispers ran all about in the gloom. There was a rustling and shuffling and a sound of hurried, muffled steps. Patricia, from her hiding place behind the door screen, could make out nothing but the dim oblong of the transom above her head and the long pale mass of the skylight.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 Bruce swung the door for them, and they passed into a little narrow shop-like place.

The boy stood straight under the taunts his former friend heaped upon him. A little smile was at the corner of his mouth as he answered. “So you want me to tell you something about the dam?” said Mr. Whitney, smiling at his rodman. The two were sitting on the side of a hill overlooking the construction work several days after Bob had been promoted from the office to the proud position of being the Chief’s aide. He had been on a message to the cofferdam gang and had returned to find the boss seemingly loafing. When he saw there might be a few free moments before he was set to work again he ventured some questions regarding the thing that was of most interest to him. “If I could be sure he wouldn’t do any more harm—” Bob’s perch on the tower was far from comfortable, so he hoped the conference going on below him would last no great length of time. The thin iron rungs of the ladder cut into his legs and his arms had begun to ache from the strain of holding himself in place without making any noise that would give him away. To add to his discomfort, he soon realized that although he could overhear clearly every word that passed between the figures on the ground it would do him no good, as they were talking in Spanish, a language in which Bob remembered Jerry could at least make himself understood. Since his arrival at the dam, the Eastern boy had made some attempt to pick up a working knowledge of it, but his time had been so short that he had not got very far. Therefore, only a word here and there meant anything to him and as these were simple words, they gave no clue to what was being discussed..