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“I knew it!” Billy panted feverishly. “The Ha’nt!” Heedless of the dog running with his nose close to the ground, Billy rushed on. His shirt was torn, his trousers hanging by one suspender, his shoes cut and one tap turned back. Ashes whitened his hair; though at the back a dark mat was still damp from oozing blood,—the handkerchief that had bound it had been torn off by a twitching twig. His smarting eyes watered so that he could hardly see his way. Yet of all this he was unconscious. Weariness, pain, his cracked and bleeding lips,—he knew nothing of them, felt nothing.,

Now he crept through the brush by the roadside till he came close under the west wall. The setting sun blazed red fire at him from the windows, reminding him sharply of the hour.,

The travellers passed on; he righted his wheel and began his slow, painful way home. It was still cloudy and the welcome darkness setting in early, shrouded him as he slipped down the least public streets and alleys to his own side gate. He put his wheel away, fed his chickens,—though they had gone to roost,—went to the cellar and brought meat and milk for dog and cats, and reconnoitred the way to the Fo’castle.,

Up on the hillside one of the brothers still plied the hoe; and now the other came from the back door and walked down the road with his milk can in his hand. Billy had “the creeps” for a minute, and cowered closer; but no one saw him. Now was the time! He would never have such a chance again.

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“Are—are you hurt bad, Jimmy?” came in a quaking voice.,

“Gosh! My throat feels like I’d been garglin’ with a bumble bee,” he exclaimed. Greatly refreshed, he did full justice to the difficult roles of combined driver and audience. Jethro, delighted with the new game, tore madly round the yard, barking shrilly and demanding more speed. But Job, running sadly corner-wise, was destined from the start for a losing race.,

Howard sat back in his chair and thought of the possibilities of seeing Nell. He reflected that they were as good as engaged. Mrs. Wopp had given her diagnosis of the case enigmatically, perhaps, but with a degree of accuracy denoting keen observation on the evening of his last visit at the Wopp household. For fully a fraction of a minute Nell had let him hold her hand, and then her face all dimpling had turned to say good-night. He was rehearsing what he should say next time she dimpled so irresistibly and he breathed anathemas on his asinine conduct in being so shy and tardy. He was brought to the immediate present by Moses who was regarding an ice-cream soda with suspicion.,

He was pleased with her sympathy; but being a boy, he didn’t like to show it. “I’ll tell you,” he said, eagerly, and without further acknowledgment of her kindness, “ask Mr. Brown to give you my books. Perhaps to-night I can see to study.”