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"Likely. Now I move we go right over into that ha'nted grove. What you say?" Then, as the first note of a night-bird came soft and fluted from a distant willow copse, Billy took his hand and drew him up along the corduroy road stretching through the shadows. "He could have done well," sighed the old Admiral. "A few evenings ago I was waited upon by Mr Greyquill, a sleek and dingy little man whom I do not love the sight of. Such a visit must be an intrusion. I was sitting in the open window smoking my pipe, when he pushed the gate and sneaked up the path in his land-stealing way, but before he could fetch the door I hailed him: 'Hallo, Mr Greyquill,' says I, 'pray, what business[Pg 14] brings you on this visit?' But in my heart I knew devilish well what he called about. He steps on to the grass over against my window, and with a low congee says, 'I am sorry, Sir William, to intrude upon you, sir, but I can obtain no satisfaction from your son, and at the same time I have no desire to go to extremities.' 'You'll not help your case by threatening me, Mr Greyquill,' said I. 'But look how the case stands, sir,' he cries, 'your son has had three hundred pounds from me.' 'No, sir,' I said. 'Well, sir, he owes me three hundred pounds.' 'For how much advanced?' said I. 'For two hundred in good cash,' he answered. I looked the old rogue full in the eye, and said, 'You should be a rich man, sir.' 'I want my money, Sir William,' says he. 'I trusted your son as an officer and a gentleman, and as the son of an officer and a gentleman——' 'Hold, sir,' I shouted, losing my temper. 'What right had you to trust me as an officer and a gentleman when you never gave me your confidence? Did you drop a hint to me that you were advancing money to my son? Do you suppose if I had known the truth, that I would have suffered you to accept my credit as a stake in these ignoble transactions?' 'Well, Sir William, I want my money,' said the old rascal, 'and must get it, though I[Pg 15] hope not to be driven into extremities. Is Mr Lawrence in?' 'No, sir,' says I. 'Good afternoon!' and I got up and left the window.".

A minute or two later Paul came out, shutting the door after him.I tried logging in using my phone number and I was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call me instead" option twice but didn't get a call either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call me instead fails.There was "All set," cried Stanhope. "Leave your belt loose so I can hang to it and I'm with you. That's right. Who were they, Billy?"

"No, he'll stick with the rest of us," cried Ringold, emphatically, "and I'll tell you why. It's just like his contrariness to do the very thing the others won't do, but let me tell you somethin'. The very minute he makes a move I put the screws on him tight. Let him so much as whisper 'sell' an' he'll pay me every cent he owes me, with interest. No, Tom, we needn't feel scarey about Joe Scraff." Next day was Sunday and Billy did not like Sundays. They meant the scrubbing of his face, ears and neck with "Old Brown Windsor" soap until it fairly cracked if he so much as smiled, and being lugged off with his parents and Anse to early forenoon Sunday School in the little frame church in the Valley. There was nothing interesting about Sunday School; it was the same old hum-drum over and over again—same lessons, same teachers, same hymns, same tunes; with Deacon Ringold's assertive voice cutting in above all the other voices both in lessons and singing and with Mrs. Scraff's shrill treble reciting, for her class's edification, her pet verse: "Am I nothing to thee, all ye who pass by?"—only Mrs. Scraff always improvised more or less on the scriptures, and usually threw the verse defiantly from her in this form: "You ain't nuthin to me, all you who pass me by." "I will not, madam, and I trust that the application of it may make him a little better humoured." "Ol' Scroggie left it all to him," said Billy..