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Betty staggered with her burden out into the garden to leave with her flowers the benediction of her presence and also to crave a few small favors for herself. “You haven’t noticed Jerusalem Crickets, yet,” Billy said impressively, anxious to distract attention from the little drama at the plate. He placed his second cat on the floor, a gaunt creature, brindled in many colors, with great scared-looking eyes. “She’s afraid of everybody. She never had any home till I brought her here, poor thing! Just kicked from door to door. And Geewhillikins, too—he was a tiny kitten put in a sack to drown out in the creek. And he was so plucky he just wiggled to shallow water and hollered for a deliverer. Of course that kind of cats don’t have manners. How could they?” Billy was a fine special pleader. Billy breathed deep. How he loved this opulent valley which was his birthplace and home! He longed to see all the world, yet he thought no other place could be as beautiful..
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“This,” said Betty, showing the picture of a robin, “is a wormivorious bird.” Henry, the rooster, from his vantage point on a beam crowed lustily, but Betty ignored his remark. “O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice. When they entered the Sheriff’s office again it was two o’clock. He was there, and gave Billy a private audience far more graciously than he would have done had not Doctor Carter’s presence been voucher for the importance of the matter. When the boy repeated his story, less confidently, less dramatically than before, yet not needing the Doctor’s comment to prove its value, the Sheriff drew a long breath and emphasized it with a blow of his fist on the table. 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..
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