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Maria, accompanied by Betty, repaired to the spot where they had left the little boy. He was not there. In vain they shouted and called his name. “Say, little kid, what’s your name?” he asked, merrily, as he routed a great white cat from his own chair and placed it before the fire for the child. Betty winced slightly as the chilly weapon touched her face, but recollecting the importance of the issue at stake she submitted tamely to be shorn. In a few moments Moses stepped back to contemplate the result of his drastic work. There was no denying that it had totally changed his little sister’s appearance. A queer expression on Moses’ face made Betty enquire anxiously, “What is it? Don’t I look orlright Moses?”.

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“Golly! They’re working all night. I—ought to—help—to-morrow. I—” He slept again with his good resolution half made. Billy felt his head lift a little higher at his mother’s words; felt a new standard of honor and independence leap into being. The house was too small for him. He ran out into the summer evening, down the hill to the big rock that overhangs Runa Creek. The stars were beginning to shine, and he could hear the tinkle of the water below. Bouncer rubbed against him, and Billy hugged him to the peril of the old dog’s breath. “The storm’ll be worse yet, Mr. Howard, so you jist stay here till the cock crows fer risin’, an’ I’ll cook you a breakfast better’n a pore lonely bachelor kin cook fer hisself.” The child obeyed, but her fingers trembled; and Bouncer whined and licked her hand..