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Now in the silence and fragrance his tightened springs began to relax. Presently he found himself in a dream of possibilities of the island,—Ellen’s Isle, he always called it; of what might be done with the smooth places in the river, the hills, Sunol Creek not far away, boiling and tumbling in boisterous beauty; of hidden nooks, piled boulders, and tiny meadows, vine-enclosed and flower-fragrant. “Well, you know the other thing to do if you don’t like it,” Billy retorted, bluntly. “She’s my sister till her folks are found, and that isn’t likely.” The next day was spent in sight seeing but visions of neglected poultry and cows haunted the anxious housewife, and notwithstanding the expostulations of Moses they started home that evening..
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“I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.” CHAPTER XIII THE HIDDEN HUT “Oh, Betsey, give it to me!” he whispered in agony of soul. “Don’t let up’s long’s I live! Maybe I’ve killed her!” Bess, an only child, was usually present at the[59] frequent entertainments her parents gave, and was familiar with some of the more formal table customs. She wished Billy’s dinner to have every dignity, and to this end rose and proposed a toast to him. They drank it standing, with cheers. And Billy, accustomed to having the largest voice in every noise, stood and joined lustily; till Jackson, who helped his father at the catering for lodge banquets, and knew a thing or two, reached behind Jean and pulled the back of Billy’s coat violently. “Pst! Set down!” he hissed, tragically..
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