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"Plenty of news, madam," answered the Admiral, "but most of the reports are lies born of fear. The French never can get a footing upon this land." "Come, nice old Croaker, tell me where you found the gold," coaxed Billy. After all fall had its compensations. Glorious days beneath lowering skies in a wind-whipped blind were before him; stormy days when the ducks would sweep in to his decoys and his old "double-barrel" would take toll. If only Frank Stanhope was to be the teacher instead of that cold-eyed, mean looking Johnston. He knew he would not get along with Johnston. And school was to open on Monday. Great Scott! The very thought made him shiver..
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Billy reached down and gripped the old man's arm. "You found that stuff and didn't so much as tell Spencer?" he cried indignantly. Croaker turned his back and murmured a whole string of "coro-corrs," which to Billy meant just as plain as words could say it that he hadn't the slightest intention of telling anything. As he left the pine grove for the main road he discerned a lone figure standing on the Causeway, with head lifted and turned towards the still faintly glowing west, and his footsteps quickened. Billy put his hand on the latch of the door, then stood, frozen into inaction. From the interior of the shanty had come a groan—a human groan! Billy almost dropped the lantern. A cold shiver ran down his spine. His mind flashed to Old Scroggie's ghost. The hand that groped into his pocket in search of the rabbit-foot charm trembled so it could scarcely clasp that cherished object..
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