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THE place Billy called the Fo’castle was a tiny room in the sloping windmill tower. It was level with the second floor of the house, and a narrow, railed bridge connected it with a door in his mother’s room. Under it was the above-ground cellar, overhead the big tank. Still higher whirled the great white wings that pumped the beauty-giving water to lawn and gardens. “Not in the house; in this room, yes.” To his mother and sister Billy seemed changed. He stuck closer to his books. His teacher told them the boy stood at the head of his class. “Jimmy Dorr may be a rival if he feels like work, which isn’t probable. Jean’s accident last year put her behind, otherwise the boys would have to work much harder if either excelled her.” Yet even these welcome words did not account for some things the mother quietly observed; Billy’s growing promptness, better attention, and memory for matters outside of play. He was more silent, too; and there was less hammering and whistling in the shop..

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“A dose of senner tea’ll fix that, my boy,” was Mrs. Wopp’s cheerful rejoinder. “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. “Mannel Rodd, did you ever ketch a fish?” From the lower slopes of the Cedar Hills issued many wide wooded ravines. Of these none were prettier than Spring Coulee which even in winter retained its attractiveness, having a goodly sprinkling of evergreen trees among the poplars and cottonwoods lining its sides. A grassy level formed the bottom of the coulee. Through the centre of this a little crystal-clear stream, rising in the hills behind and swelled by an occasional spring which gushed from the sides of the ravine, danced over its pebbly bed to join Berry Creek a mile away..