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"Has she eaten anything, can you tell me?" For half an hour they groped their way forward, no further words passing between them. The heavy roar of the rain on the tree tops made conversation next to impossible. The darkness was so dense they were forced to proceed slowly and pause for breath after bumping violently against a tree or sapling. They had been striving for what seemed to both to be a long, long time to find the clearing when Billy paused in his tracks and spoke: "It's no use, Maurice. We're lost." So it seemed to the boy, as from the brow of a hill he watched the dawn-haze drift toward the newly-open sun-gates of the eastern sky; for autumn always brought a feeling of sadness to Billy. He missed the twitter of the birds, the thousand and one notes of the wild things he loved and which always passed out and away from his world with the summer. The first hoar frost had come; soon the leaves would turn golden and crimson, the fern-clumps crumple and wither into sere, dead, scentless things. Then with shortening days and darkening skies those leaves and plants would sag to earth and the gaunt arms of the bare trees would lift empty nests toward snow-spitting skies..

"He ought'a get a taste o' the gad hisself," muttered Maurice. "An' he's goin' to be our teacher, oh, Gash! Well, I kin see where me an' Billy Wilson gets ourn—maybe."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 "Down feedin' his pets, most likely," answered his father as he went out. A moment or two later Billy came in. The boys seated themselves in their places and ate their breakfast in silence.

Through the summer night, Hinter, astride a rangy roan, rode the ten mile trail that lay between the foot of Rond Eau and the light-house. On his left the giant pines stood with sharp points clearly defined against the starlight like the bayonet-fixed guns of a sleeping army; to his right swept dwarf cedars and stunted oaks and beyond them the bay marshes, with weaving fire-flies shimmering like star-dust close above them. "Then why didn't you tell Spencer? Don't you know them thieves will find out you've been there an' they'll hide that stuff in a new place, Harry?" "Yep, we're goin' tomorrow if this weather holds. I'll go over this afternoon to fix up a hide on Mud point." The horse reached forward his long muzzle and lipped one of the boy's ears. "Say horses don't understand!" grinned Maurice. "Gee! I guess maybe they do understand, though.".