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"Ma's got the light burnin' an' the strap waitin' fer her little boy," chaffed Billy as they put up the barn-yard bars. "Why, maybe you're right," agreed Mrs. Keeler, "an' I do declare! I've got some hoarhound right here in this basket. Ain't it lucky I sent fer it?" "I have!" cried the delighted lawyer, "and whether he left you much or little nobody can dispute your claim. Young man, shake hands again!".

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"Well, she didn't 'zactly promise she would, but—" "Come on," said Elgin, "let's move on down to the sehoolhouse." Side by side the three passed on up the hill and down into the valley. Billy wanted to shadow old Scroggie's ghost and so discover the will; he wanted to seek out the robbers of the Twin Oaks store and earn a reward; he wanted Maurice Keeler with him; he wanted to hear Elgin Scraff's laugh. But all this was denied him. And now a new burden had been thrust upon him, compared with which all his other woes seemed trivial. Old Scroggie's namesake and apparent heir had turned up again. Billy had seen him with his own eyes; with his own ears had heard him declare that he intended to erect a saw-mill in the thousand-acre forest. This meant that the big hardwood wonderland would be wiped away and that Frank Stanhope would never inherit what was rightfully his. Billy started. "Oh gosh! I dunno, Mr. Spencer; I jest cut the first ones come into my head.".