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“Why have you been away out in the country for milk?”,

“There’s a better way,” Billy called, when the deputy leading started to climb back as he had come. “Follow the creek; there’s a trail.”,

“My boy, you have done a wonderful thing!” he said when Billy had finished. “You must come with me and tell your story again. If it comes out as I think, you’ll earn at least a thousand dollars.”,

It was on the first of these busy days in San Francisco that the big counterfeiter saw at a distance May Nell’s father; saw the child’s pictures posted in the galleries, hurried back to the “Ha’nt,” and planned the kidnapping as a chance for “getting even” with Mr. Smith, who had discharged him years before for dishonesty. But Billy had thwarted him, brought him safely to justice for all of his crimes.

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Bouncer tied? That red handkerchief! The boy went cold and pale. Before he looked he knew that May Nell was not there. He turned his white face to the others as they came up.,

Billy went to the door and looked after them. No one was in sight. Harold, the twins, and May Nell, too, were gone. What could it mean? He looked back at the clock. Nearly ten. Usually the Gang gathered earlier than this, hung around and hurried him with his work, many putting in lusty strokes, that Billy, the favorite, might the sooner be released. But now even Jean, his stanch second in all the fun going, was late. He had expected to be late himself; he always was. But he, who planned most of the sport in spite of doing more work than any of them, had this day expected his schemes to be well launched before he could join in them.,

IT was a gray, cold day, unusual for May, the kind of day that accords with ill-nature. It reminded Billy of the incident of the opera when Rain and Storm, driven by his own insistence, had blown in on the stage quite out of season, and dragged off with them the remnants of winter. For the first Sunday since May Nell’s coming he took his wheel after dinner and went off alone. He was in accord with the sullen sky and air. In the morning he had answered his mother angrily; because Bouncer wished to play instead of coming through the gate when called, Billy had slammed it on his tail, knowing well that in a happier mood he would have been more careful.,

Harold turned and looked to where May Nell stood with the twins, sorting her flowers. “Isn’t she a daisy, though? Little—why, she’s only a baby.”