“Larst Tuesday,” she continued, “two p’licemen went ridin’ along the trail jist as we were comin’ home from school, an’ they had the beautifulest horses. Moses can ride any horse, no matter how ornery.” Betty’s eyes shone with pride.,
And so the story went on. All the wholesome things of the country that children like had come from one and another. And each had been as happy in giving as Billy could possibly be in receiving.,
“To be shore you kin,” was the reply, “but don’t hurry too much an’ smarsh the crockery.”,
“Well, he ain’t dead; he’s alive and bully, with a wad that bulges. I’m going to take you to him.”
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“You’re a plucky kid, all right,” he replied, touched more than he would have admitted. “I won’t hurt the dog if you do as I tell you.” He looked for a cord or rope, but found none, and pulled from his pocket a red handkerchief. “Tie this around his neck; let one end hang down.”,
There was a strange weight in his left side, like lead. He felt as if the whole world was against him; and the future looked dark and terrible. Three days ago life had reached out, a white shining road to success. Only three days! He looked north to where clouds were shutting down over the Mountain, gray to-day, not blue. The Mountain, every one called it, for it closed the valley and towered, a sentinel, far above all other mountains in view. Billy thought that stood for him; he was to be chained to this narrow valley all his life; struggle as he might he should never be free.,
The child was “boiling inside,” yet she believed Bouncer’s life depended on her obedience. And anyway, Billy would come in a minute. Oh, why wasn’t he there now!,
Nero, nonchalantly fiddling a trifling accompaniment to the burning of Rome, had nothing on Moses, as that blithe-hearted boy whistled a joyous, albeit unmelodious, lilt to the devastation of Betty’s picture show box.
“Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp.
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“Let me go, please!” he pleaded. “There’s a little girl, our refugee, over there, fainted, I think, perhaps—dead.”
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“Well I’m not going to stay an’ play kid games,” Jimmy retorted loftily, and turned away.
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“But it isn’t ten o’clock.”
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>Armed with the big baskets, several young men of the party travelled from bench to bench, followed by others with coffee pots. The strenuous exercises of the evening, preceded in most cases by a long ride or drive, had developed vigorous appetites and the viands were disposed of with wonderful rapidity.
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