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What can we think, but that he has had something to do with our loss?" "If I remember correctly, it was Eagle-eye who called our attention to the fact that the animals had been stolen last night. You thought they had broken away," recalled Professor Zepplin. "That's so," agreed Ned. "It certainly does look bad.
"But it's all nonsense to think they would bother us," objected Ned. "We haven't anything that they would want." "No, nor do we want them," replied Walter, with emphasis. "I guess we had better sleep on our rifles to-night." "That will hardly be necessary," smiled the Professor. "How about Eagle-eye?" asked Ned. "Didn't he hear anything?" "Eagle-eye was away last night." "Oh, yes, that's so.
"But why not?" persisted the boy. "In the first place, this continent came to life some time after the event you speak of is supposed to have taken place." "Oh," muttered the lad. "And now we had better be pressing on." "When do we reach the Red Star Mine?" asked Ned. "You will have to ask Eagle-eye. I don't know."
But from the moment when his covetous eagle-eye viewed the chalk-cliffs of Dover from the coast of Northern Gaul, its fate was sealed. The Roman octopus from that moment had fastened its tentacles upon the hapless land; and in 45 A.D., under the Emperor Claudius, it became a Roman province. In vain did the Britons struggle for forty years.
We could make it while Eagle-eye was going there and back. I move that we wait until to-morrow. Perhaps we may find Tad some time to-day. I believe he will return, as I said before. If he does, we can start right on. Some of us will have to walk, but that doesn't matter. We are pretty well used to doing that, I guess." "Master Ned, your suggestion is a good one. We shall adopt it.
Steal um," announced the Indian calmly. His announcement was like an electric shock to them. "Stolen? Stolen? Is that what you mean?" shouted Professor Zepplin. "Yes." "Oh, preposterous! Stolen? And with all of us sleeping within a rod or so of them? Impossible." "Eagle-eye say stole," insisted the guide. "How do you know?" "See um tracks, then not see um tracks."
Mark's Place in Venice. There is the wonderful Leaning Tower, there is the old and beautiful Duomo, there is the noble Baptistery, there is the lovely Campo-Santo, and there somewhere lurking in portal or behind pillar, and keeping out an eagle-eye for the marveling stranger is the much-experienced cicerone who shows you through the edifices.
His large eagle-eye had detected us from afar, and we found him at the nearest extremity of the nearest angle of his grounds ready to give us battle, pacing slowly to and fro, with that peculiar motion of the wings which indicates suppressed wrath. We rode along close to his hedge a short distance, and he marched with us, brushing against the hedge and showing an anxious desire to get at us.
"Little Father," she said, solemnly, "I cannot go. Those are not my people. I do not know my people. My heart is not with them. My heart is here. Little Father," she went on, dropping her voice, "it is here, here, here!" she clasped her breast with both hands. "I do not know how it is. There is a pain in my breast, and my heart is sad with the words of Eagle-eye.
You're wanted," called Walter. "Put the Indian on the end of the rope; and, Professor, you please take a hold nearest to the tree. You'll be my salvation. The rest of you, except Chunky, can stand between the Professor and Eagle-eye." They took their places as directed, while Tad straightened out the rope until it extended to the edge of the cliff. "What do you want me to do?
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