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CHAPTER VI.—AN EVENING IN THE WOPP PARLOR. “Billy! Who could steal our little girl? I cannot think it. She’s gone with some of the children to watch the fire.” Mrs. Bennett’s words were braver than her face, for in her heart she felt Billy was right, though she wondered why. In the short moments that had passed since their coming the Sheriff saw that the fire had gained perilously. Instead of sparks great flaming brands dropped all around them; the crests of the ravine were sheets of fire that swept downward, wrapping every tree and shrub in their path, making of the pines huge towers of flame..

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Billy didn’t see Doctor Carter passing in his buggy, nor hear his greeting; neither did he see the understanding smile; the Doctor easily guessed that Billy was planning fun. And he was; this last week of school should be the happiest ever. Didn’t work begin next Monday? Real work! He couldn’t catch up the bankers in his arms, like his mother, and cajole them into favors. No; it would be all day and every day for a hundred years! Only Sundays, and they didn’t count; for wouldn’t he have to go to church just the same? Mother and sister would be hurt if he “put out to the woods” Sunday mornings. And the bank people, too, would expect him to go to church; hadn’t they said none but steady, well-behaved people could remain in their employ? “Say, little kid, what’s your name?” he asked, merrily, as he routed a great white cat from his own chair and placed it before the fire for the child. “This is a lyre, very old,” said Mr. Crump, handling an ancient instrument tenderly. Moses looked up suddenly, he hoped nothing he had said called forth the remark. It seemed to him that his voice made no sound; that May Nell never ran so slowly; that the travellers would surely not hear him, not stop. How could they hear in all the noise?.