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Billy felt his cheeks turn hot. "I might," he returned, "an' ag'in, I mightn't." "Why, it belongs to Mr. Scroggie," Hinter answered. "It was brought across from Ohio by schooner. You know what it is, I suppose?" "Of course," said Captain Acton, "he is well up in navigation?".

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"Kin any boy in this here class tell me why Christ walked on the sea of Galilee?" he now asked. Croaker shooked his head and hopped to the ground. He had grown tired of having Billy put that question to him. With many throaty and indignant mutterings he pigeontoed across the yard, not even deigning to glance back at the laughing man and boy. Great mosquitoes whined about his head and stung his neck and ears. Mottled flies bit him and left a burning smart. The saw-like edges of the grass cut his hands and strove to trip him as he pushed his improvised raft forward. Once his foot slipped on the greasy bog, and the quicksands all but claimed him. But he pushed on, reaching at last the black sullen shallows, putrid and ill-smelling with decayed growth, and alive with hideous insects. Keeler's roaring laugh might have been heard half a mile away. "Well, along you go," he shouted, lifting Billy bodily over the gate. "You'll find Ma deefer than usual on account of a cold in the head, so talk real close and loud to her.".