"Pa," said Billy, "would you mind comin' to the woodshed an' lookin' over my open water decoys. I've been restringin' 'em, an' weightin' the canvasbacks an' redheads, an' givin' the bluebills a fresh coat o' paint. I'd like to know what you think of my job.",
"But, Billy," she remonstrated, "they'll be expecting you to bring some ducks home, you know.",
Croaker, mincing in and out among the rag-weeds, led straight across the yard to a tiny ramshackle building which at one time might have been a root-house. Billy, feeling that at any moment an icy hand might reach out and grip his windpipe, followed. It was a terrible risk he was running but the prize was worth it. His feet seemed weighted with lead. At last he reached the root-house and leaned against it, dizzy and panting. Then he looked about for Croaker. The crow had vanished!.
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