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Updated: June 5, 2025
A parachute fire is a device designed to be ejected from a pot at the end of the rocket's travel, and to emit a bright light during its slow descent. To make this parachute, we cut a circle ten feet in diameter out of a piece of calico, and divide its circumference into ten or twelve equal parts.
When we got them back and put them on that trail from the waterhole, they found it led straight across the flats to where the horses and wagon had stood. There the tracks of the Indian shoes ended, and the tracks of shod hoofs led off into the brush. We followed them all the way 'round to the lower waterhole and up the lower creek to the ranch, and there they took us right to Rocket's heels.
Say, you an' me have piled a tidy heap in this yer city, so I guess you're goin' to match my hundred dollars right here. An' I tel you squar', an' I'm a man o' my word, if you don't you'll get a bath in Rocket's hoss-trough which'll do you till the next Presidential Election if it pizens every hoss for miles around Barnriff. Guess I'll take that hundred dollars." And he did.
This was in charming contrast with life at Mrs. Silvernail's, in its freedom from parables, and from the uncared-for society of Miss Rocket's guests; likewise from that of the serious and vicious boarders, and above all of the poisonous young man.
Harry was more trusted than them all, but he, too, got tired in a warehouse at Rocket's of plod, plod, plod! serve, serve, serve! So he forged a name, and took the gold that lay beneath his hand, tore up his indentures, and fled in the night-time over the hills and far away! He's a rich man now, somewhere near the sunset, rich and great, with clerks of his own.
Hugh knew that Willie was safe with his mother, and hurried out to the kitchen, where only a few of his negroes were yet stirring. "Ho, Claib!" he called, "saddle Rocket quick and bring him to the door. I'm going to the cornfield." "Lor' bless you, mas'r, it's done snow higher than Rocket's head. He never'll stand it nohow."
Tom Jr.'s pioneering rocket flights and inventions had won the youth a top rank in American space research. "Guess you're right, sir," Bud agreed. "I'll back genius boy here any day!" Tom winced as Bud whacked him heartily on the shoulder. "Better save your orchids and keep your fingers crossed, fly boy," the young inventor advised. "That rocket's not home yet."
At this point Alice stepped forward, and taking Rocket's bridle, laid it across Hugh's lap, saying, softly: "It means that Rocket is yours, purchased by a friend, saved from Harney, for you. Mount him, and see if he rides as easily as ever. I am impatient to be off." But had Hugh's life depended upon it, he could not have mounted Rocket then.
He preferred them by himself, for he hated and dreaded Will's tongue, which, though held in some check when he was sober, never failed to sting the boy when Silas Rocket's whiskey had done its work. The meal was nearly finished, and husband and wife had exchanged not a single word. Eve wished to talk; there was so much she wanted to say to him.
Half a hundred Stockchuteites all the residents of the town and several floaters had come down to inspect the palatial private car and its passengers. At Rocket's first leap these highly interested spectators broke into a murmur of joyful anticipation. They were about to see the millionaire tenderfoot pull leather. Yet somehow the event failed to transpire.
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