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CHAPTER I THE LITTLE EARTHQUAKE GIRL “‘One burnished sheet of living gold, Watchful Mrs. Bennett was not far away. She stopped the boy’s noise, and cuddled the bereft one once more. “What is it, child? You are to be brave, you know.”.

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“Yes indeed,” laughed Mrs. Wopp, who was just then entering the room with a platter of bacon and eggs, “Betty’s our mornin’-glory girl shore nuff, she’s first up in the mornin’, she’s a glory little urchin an’ she’s our little girl to stay.” Suddenly, all heads were raised and a sigh of satisfaction escaped Mrs. Wopp’s lips. “Here, let me do that,” Harold commanded; “you go and do the rest of your work. We won’t get to play in all day. The Gang coming?” Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below..