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“Betty, play us a toon,” requested Mr. Wopp who was very fond of music. Betty’s tears by now were flowing too fast for her to make an answer. She picked up the whimpering dog and proceeded to carry him home. From time to time Moses stroked the quivering head and murmured low phrases of comfort. “All this turnin’ is good for the liver too you know,” she continued, as her son’s vinegary expression remained unaltered..

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CHAPTER XIII THE HIDDEN HUT As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.” “What’s the trouble, dear? What were you afraid of?” she enquired, as she raised him to his feet. Billy took no heed of time till he saw the man above shoulder his hoe, pick up his wine jug, and start down the hill. At that Billy’s heels grew swift. He scurried out of his hiding place, slipped rapidly through the brush, found his wheel, and bowled off. No languor or heaviness now in body or mind. Every atom of him was alert as on the night of the opera, yet not so normally alert; for the evil atmosphere of the place was in his soul, filling his teeming brain with imaginings of many crimes..