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“O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice. “Never min’, Pete, an’ thank you anyways, but sence the lesson’s a hull lot about the sea, I’ll jist write with blue chork.” She took a step, but he caught her hand. “I don’t care if I am, he mustn’t see—no one must,—I didn’t mean you should. Besides, I walked home and brought my wheel; I’ll live, I guess,—I’m too mean to kill.” He put his stiff, swollen hand over his face. “It’s Jimmy that’s in danger.” A new note of terror came into his voice as he remembered the pale face and limp arm; he had never seen a fighting boy look so before. “I’m afraid Jimmy’s hurt inside, mother. What if he should die?”.
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“You are one simp,” he comforted, at the same time putting his own overcoat about the shivering boy. Now was Billy’s chance! The place was alone! He waited till each traveller was out of view on the curving road, then climbed up, crossed the dusty wheel tracks, and crept into the brush on the other side. Once hidden he “snooped” silently through the tangled chaparral, coming shortly to the mystery-house, so close to it that he could have looked in at the windows had they been clean enough. He was out early wheeling from house to house, where various parts of the “show” were receiving last touches. One by one he gathered each “attraction,” and herded them all to Jimmy’s big barn, where the procession was to form. Some were late, Bess for one; but Billy was not anxious about her. For a horror-stricken moment no one spoke. Even the dumb creatures were still; and Buzz, thinking it all for his benefit, watched open-mouthed for the next act in the play..
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