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"Why, hello, Billy," he said pleasantly. "Out capturing more wild things for the menagerie?" The invitation was accepted with many thanks. Billy paused and rolled a bread crumb. When he looked up his eyes were dark. "Anse has told you that it was me who sneaked him out o' the yard, an' led him away where he could feed an' rest an' get the sores made by the hard saddle an' hickory healed, an' Anse didn't lie fer once. I did do it, an' I'd do it ag'in..

Suddenly a knock fell on the door.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 "Sick? Where's he sick?" Mrs. Keeler lifted the basket to the table and coming back to Maurice, put a berry-stained finger under his chin. "Stick out your tongue!" she commanded. "Billy, you fetch that lamp over here."

One by one others got up and made their little offers. Cobin Keeler, a giant in stature, combed his flowing beard with his fingers and announced he'd bring along a load of green corn-fodder. Gamp Stevens promised three bags of potatoes. Joe Scraff, a little man with a thin voice, said he had some lumber that the fishermen might as well be using for their smoke-houses. Each of the others present offered to do his part, and then the men separated for their several homes. Billy was still thinking of the only girl when he topped the farther ridge and descended into the valley where stood the haunted grove. He wondered what she would say when he told her the great news he had to tell her. He thought he knew. She would put her hand on his arm and say: "Billy, I'm glad." Well, he was on his way to hear her say it. As he entered a clump of cedars he saw her. She wore a cloak of crimson; her hat had slipped to her shoulders and her hair glowed softly through the shadowy half lights. She stood beside old man Scroggie's grave, a great bunch of golden-rod in her arms. The wharves were old platforms black with tar or pitch, and at the back of them were three warehouses for the accommodation of such merchandise as this Old Harbour received or sent afloat. Perched midway on the slope that was terminated by the brow of the cliff where the windmill this morning was peacefully revolving its vans, was Old Harbour Town, a romantic grouping of little grey houses full of sparkling lozenge windows backed by a church spire, the whole looking in the distance like a toy that could be put into a box and set out according to taste upon a table by a child. He returned to England, and went to his father ostensibly to seek a berth ashore, but for many months past he had been hanging about Old Harbour Town, an idler and a tippler, and handsome as he was, and brilliant[Pg 41] as had been his short naval story, he was not the man to commend himself to Lucy Acton as a husband whatever may have been her secret feelings in regard to his person and some points of his character..