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"Elgin Scraff," spoke up Billy, promptly. They crossed the lot and went through the pines to the sunny open. There, on a mossy knoll, Lou spread her cloak, and Billy poured the gold from bag and box upon it. O'Dule had cut a window in the cabin, installed an old stove, table and chairs, and succeeded in making the place home-like enough to suit his simple taste. To-night he stood by the stove, frying potatoes and humming an Irish song. On the table lay a loaf of bread and some butter in a saucer, while close beside it a coal oil lamp gave a smoky light to the room. In the center of the table reposed a huge blue-grey cat, its amber eyes on Harry and its forepaws curled contentedly beneath its furry breast. All about the room hung the skins of wild animals—deer, bear, lynx and coon. A pile of skins lay in one corner. This was O'Dule's bed..
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Erie was standing against the gate, her arms stretched along its top, hands clenching its rough pickets. "Poor ol' beggar," he said gently. "By the sound of their wings, of course," laughed the man. "There," as a small duck flashed past the blind, "that's a green-winged teal, and he's flying at the rate of about ninety miles an hour." Billy called and she turned to him with a smile..
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