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Mr. Johnston frowned, then observing his host and hostess fall to their knees, he too got stiffly down beside his chair. He prayed long and fervently and ended by asking God to help him lead these people from the shadow into enlightenment. "Now, then," said Billy, "you scoot through the trees to the root-house, while I go up to the kitchen an' sneak some doughnuts. Don't let Ma catch a glimpse of you er she'll come lookin' fer me an' set me to churnin' er somethin' right under her eyes. An' see here," he warned, as Maurice made for the trees, "don't you get to foolin' with the snakes er owls, an' you best keep out of ol' Ringdo's reach, 'cause he's a bad ol' swamp coon in some ways. You jest lay close till I come back." "May I have the great honour of showing you the cabin, Miss?" said Mr Lawrence..

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Billy blushed to the roots of his hair but his grey eyes met his father's steadily. "Yep," he answered, "jest about right." "What proof have they given you that they were mad?" "No, ours won't be them kind of colds," Billy explained. "They'll be the dry-cough, consumption kind, that either cure up quick er slow. All we gotta do is dig up an Injun turnip out o' the bush an' nibble it. It'll pucker our throats up so tight we'll be hoarse enough to sing bass in the choir." The man started. "No," he answered, "I don't own it exactly, but I hope to soon. It is part of the Scroggie property. I am negotiating now with Scroggie's heir for it. It is useless, of course, but I desire to own it for reasons known only to myself.".