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“Not a bit!” His words were strangely impatient. “I’ve got to find her!” He started past them. Bess, though not quite twelve, was a striking girl, larger than most women; with a mind as unusual as her body. Poetry, music, mythology, she fed upon these as a plant upon the sunshine. She was not satisfied with ordinary speech, but continually wove into the most commonplace events the glamour of romance and poetic words. A wise mother had stood between her and the jeers of the thoughtless, that she might have a normal girlhood; and Billy’s mother and sister helped to make it possible for her to play comfortably with those of her own age. Yet it was a surprise to the stranger to see this dark-eyed, magnificent woman-creature in short skirts romping with children. Now was Billy’s chance! The place was alone! He waited till each traveller was out of view on the curving road, then climbed up, crossed the dusty wheel tracks, and crept into the brush on the other side. Once hidden he “snooped” silently through the tangled chaparral, coming shortly to the mystery-house, so close to it that he could have looked in at the windows had they been clean enough..

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“Golly! There’s nothing skewgee about that fortune,” Billy commented, encouragingly. “Said so, but they’re late. We’ve got an addition, the little earthquake girl.” This last was a sibilant aside. “You can search me.” Billy was about to remark further, when a commotion arose among the school children just passing on their way home. [89]“Mother, do come and look at the procession,” Edith called cautiously from the trellises, where she was slyly watching..