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She caught her hat from a peg, opened the door, and Ringdo gamboled out before her. Down the path to the gate they sped and out into the tree-hedged road. Already the frost-pinched leaves, crimson-veined and golden, were being swung to earth by a soft wind that promised snow. With Ringdo galloping clumsily beside her Erie went down the road, trilling a snatch of a song. Anson almost sobbed his relief. "I'll do it," he agreed. "What is it you want'a know, Bill?" Billy started. "Oh gosh! I dunno, Mr. Spencer; I jest cut the first ones come into my head.".

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"Lord forbid! She is too God-fearing, and too nobly and sweetly moulded as a woman to be capable of any such descent." "They would, I s'pose," laughed Billy as he stepped out, followed by Moll, the little spaniel, "but these three don't have to keep long; you see we're goin' to have these fer dinner." The woman stood frowning and considering. "Well," she said at length. "I'll go an' have Anson come fer you but you see you don't budge an inch till he comes." Maurice nodded. "They said thieves at the store." Forgotten, for the moment, was old Scroggie's ghost and the buried treasure in this new something which promised mystery and adventure..