The coulee was a sheltered nook when bitter winds swept the higher grounds above; it was cool when scorching heat yellowed the grasses of the plain.,
The three men lined up in front of the closed door, and one of the deputies quickly threw it open. For an instant the officers stood motionless with weapons drawn. Billy watched with fascinated eyes; the moment the door opened forgot orders, ran and crouched behind the Sheriff, peering under his uplifted arm. There in the lurid firelight that streamed through the closed window, stood the two men he had seen before, hands up, rigid, staring into pistol barrels. Floor boards were torn up; strange vessels, scales, various paraphernalia Billy could not understand, lay about them; while in a deep hole they had dug, a small, iron-bound chest was partially covered with earth. The men’s faces were smutched, streaming with perspiration, and pale with terror.,
“Mar,” he demanded hastily, “more marshed turnips, please.”,
Enjoying the spectacle, Henry the pet rooster stood on the rail-fence crowing lustily in chanticleer derision.
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The Sheriff wondered at the boy’s vehemence, yet was too busy loading the wagon to pay much attention to him. “Think you’re fit, sonny? You look all in. Better ride to town—we’ll send some one for the little girl.”,
Miss Gordon complied, then followed the old favorite with a two-step played in as sprightly a manner as the organ would allow.,
“Billy, I don’t like the look of your eyes; you’re reading too much at night,” his mother said one evening when he was helping with the dishes. “You must go to bed earlier.”,
Having disposed of the song, dear to her mother’s heart, in spite of the protestations of Moses, Betty went to the kitchen and in a few moments returned with a steaming pot of tea.
He was soon at the “lodge of ample size” made the week before, not of “strong logs” but of old fence-rails and willow twigs. He wondered if the girls would be able to imagine it a “lodge,” or if May Nell and Jean, who were to come a little later, could fix it according to the poem.
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w5ni8-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
“Then you don’t love yer li’l sister ef you don’t want her to look like you.” Betty almost wept.
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Bingbing-Li
“Arsk a dorg with a tin pail tied to his ear to smile at yer,” returned Moses, sourly.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“Wot fer? You girls is alius thinkin’ o’ money.” Moses clinked the nickels in his pocket with the air of a Vanderfeller. Betty’s voice became wheedling.
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