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Mrs. Wilson stood, the picture of amazement. "Have you gone stark and ravin' crazy, Anson?" she asked sternly. Then, anger mastering her, she reached for the broom standing in the corner. Anson promptly made his escape, but as he passed the open window, he gazed wildly in at his mother and cried again: "Don't you have nuthin' to do with that gold, Ma. If you do we'll all get burnt up in our beds, er get clawed to tatters!" "His Ma wouldn't let him come. Afraid he'd get wet an' go sick ag'in. Gee! that coffee smells good, Erie." "I don't think it left any mark," Billy stammered. "Anyways, I feel a whole lot better now. It was foolish for me to climb that tall tree. I didn't have to do it.".
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Billy was watching him closely. "Pa," he said earnestly, "there's something else I might as well let you know while I'm about it. This man Hinter owns a schooner, er leastways is boss of one, an' it was her brought them drillin' rigs 'cross the lake. The boat's been layin' along the Point, a mile out from shore fer more'n a month now, an' Hinter has been keepin' in touch with her right along." "Concerning the purported will of the eccentric Mr. Scroggie?" he ventured at length, his host having lapsed into silence. "No, but I met Scroggie. That feller improves on acquaintance, Tom, he does so! He ain't half bad after you get to know him. He seems to want to be neighborly, and while I think he's backing Hinter in some way I've an idea he's watching him pretty close." "Oh Hully Gee!" yelled Jim Scroggie, "Wasn't that corkin'—Oh Mommer! An' what did you an' Maurice do with the weasels?".
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