Billy waited for no more. He was up and away like a shot. Mrs. Wilson, clutching her gold piece in one hand and brushing back her deranged hair with the other, went back into the house.,
"Desolation!" he murmured, "desolation! the natural home of ignorance.",
"Yep, we could do that, I s'pose," said Billy, "only—" He frowned and shook his head. "I guess we best not ask either of 'em, Ma. Maurice might hear of it, an' wonder why he wa'n't asked too. He's awful funny that way, you know.".
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