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"I got track of your lost sow, Mr. Keeler, when I was comin' home from the store tonight," he said. "Least-wise I didn't know it was your sow but Maurice told me about yours bein' lost. So after Mrs. Keeler went to give Mr. Spencer a call down we hired Anse to look after the preservin' an' went out to try an' track her down.",

"A story of foolhardiness, madam, largely due to my difficulty in foreseeing issues.",

"But what a dreadful responsibility to leave upon my shoulders," said Miss Acton. "Suppose those I send about come back and say she is not to be found? It is more than I can bear. The charge is too awful! What am I to do if she is not to be found?",

He pointed through the trees to an open glade in the grove. The full moon, riding high in the sky, threw her light fair upon the fern-sown sod; across the glade a white object was moving—drifting straight toward the watchers. Billy, tightly gripping his rabbit's foot charm in one sweaty hand and a rough-barked sapling in the other, felt Walter's hands clutching his shoulders.

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Billy passed on slowly after his cows, up through the spicy pines to the pebbled beach of the lake, pondering for a solution to the biggest problem his young mind had ever had to wrestle with. He seated himself on the prow of the big fish-boat, his eyes on the thirsty cattle now belly-deep in the blue water, drinking their fill. Along the shore stood the big reels used for holding the seines and nets when not in use. The twine had been newly coal-tarred and the pungent odor of the tar mingled pleasingly with the breath of pine and the sweet freshness of the sun-warmed water.,

"Yep; they don't seem to take to the crick water," Billy replied. "It's sort of scummy an' smells queer.",

"Not before?" cried Miss Acton, an exclamation which Captain Weaver received with a faint smile.,

"Come here, you," spoke a low voice as Croaker settled on the other side of the wood pile, and the crow promptly perched himself on Billy's shoulder with a succession of throaty notes that sounded like crazy laughter, but which were really expressions of unadulterated joy. For this boy who had taken him from the nest in the swaying elm when he was nothing but a half-feathered, wide-mouthed fledgling, and had fed him, cared for him, defended him against cat, dog, rooster and human beings—for this boy alone Croaker felt all the love his selfish heart was capable of giving.