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"That's it!" exclaimed Mr Lawrence. "Ma's got the light burnin' an' the strap waitin' fer her little boy," chaffed Billy as they put up the barn-yard bars. "Then you best tell me where you're gettin' the whisky," said Billy..

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"I have wondered why he keeps coming here," she said slowly. "You scarcely need his companionship, now you are busy with your duties. But there," she broke off with a smile, "I have no right to doubt his sincerity; I am sure he has never spoken one word to me that he should not speak and I know he is really fond of you." They were moving off, and Billy did not hear the rest of the sentence. As they entered the main run, the smaller man called: "Hey, sonny, whereabouts is the best point in yonder?" "Yes," he answered. "I told him that same day. Told him that you said you could never be more to him than what you now are. Why do you ask, Erie?" Some thought whilst eating with his father had occurred to him, and he felt in his pocket for the copy of the letter which he had drawn out with his pocket-handkerchief and which Mr Greyquill had got possession of. The handkerchief was there, but the letter was not. When he had drawn out his handkerchief and felt and found the lining of his pocket bare, when, in short, he completely understood that the letter was not where it ought to be and where he knew it should be, he turned as pale as the muslin curtain that partly veiled his[Pg 151] window, started with an abrupt swagger of motion as though he had been struck violently behind, then with the energy of madness felt in all his pockets, pulling out everything, meanwhile gazing around the room with eyes which seemed on fire with their vigour of scrutiny and passion of fear..