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Billy spent the days preceding the reopening of the Valley School much as a criminal awaiting execution might spend his last hours of life. The fact that Trigger Finger Tim had always accepted the inevitable sentence of fate with calm and undaunted spirit was the one buoy to which he might cling in a turbulent sea of uncertainty. There had been so much to do; so little had been done. The hiding place of old Scroggie's will was still a secret; no check had been put upon the preparations of the interloper who claimed to be the heir of the Scroggie estate; the mystery surrounding the store robbery remained a mystery; his friend Frank Stanhope was growing thin and pale from secret suffering. And on Monday morning the Valley School would open! "Good morning, Mr Lawrence," said Mr Greyquill, making the gentleman a low bow. "I may take it that you're going to the ship[Pg 134] which I am pleased to hear Captain Acton has given you the command of." "You are quite right," said Captain Weaver. "Guns would only be in our way, and sarve to check the beauty, which we don't want.".
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Billy, his arm about Sphinx's neck, spoke. "Come, ol' feller; come here," he said. As he passed up the aisle something strange and mysterious seemed to draw his eyes toward a certain spot. He looked and there, gazing at him from eyes of blue, rose-bud lips half parted in a smile, was a girl—and such a girl! "It is a draft or copy," said Captain Acton. "It is undated, and it is without the formal beginning of My dear, etc." "Whew!" he whistled, "an' all gold, too. The three pieces that Croaker took make the even three thousand.".
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