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“Yes,” Billy answered breathlessly as he leaped from the buggy; “but we’ll have to go in the way I did if you want to catch ’em sure. We can come out by the trail.” Was there to be another murder? Ought he to call? If he did wouldn’t they turn on him—kill him? No matter. Some one might be on the road and hear. And he could run pretty fast. Anyway he must risk it. “No; but you can ask concessions, and buy stocks, and keep hotel in the shack, an’ board us men. Make more money ’n we do. They always do, you know; not the fellers that works, but the smart ones that work them. I’m hungry enough to eat May Nell right now!” He snapped his teeth together with a ferocious grin as the little girl came near; and she laughed back at him more joyously than her mother would have believed possible could she have known; for this wholesome out-of-door frolic was a boon to the child, white from life within brick walls..

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“My racer has only one eye anyways,” said Betty defiantly as she twined a piece of nasturtium vine round the noble brow of the victor. THE next morning Billy had a “temperature.” His mother decided against school for that day. At first he was glad. He didn’t care if he had forty temperatures. He thought almost anything in the way of fever was cooler than he would feel if the boys—and the girls—should see his face. Not that this was the first time he had been scratched in a fight; before he had not cared who knew. To-day it was different,—there were things about this fight he wished he could forget, even though he knew Jimmy was not likely to die. Locked up! The child’s heart beat stiflingly; yet she did not cry out; she thought self-control would win her more favor than tears. “I am not going to let you see any more compositions,” exclaimed Nell, “You are just making fun of my poor children.”.