“Wot fer? You girls is alius thinkin’ o’ money.” Moses clinked the nickels in his pocket with the air of a Vanderfeller. Betty’s voice became wheedling.,
“Why, I’d planned a big stock concern, like business men. We’ll build a railroad, telegraph line—that comes first, though; we’ll have gold and copper mines, and a wharf. And next we’ll launch the steamer we’ve been making.”
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“A new kind of hen,” retorted Moses.,
St. Elmo looked at the specimens in his hand. “These pansies is most deaded. I fink I’ll fwow them away,” he declared.,
When the party reached the house and St. Elmo had been received with every manifestation of joy, Mr. Wopp in one burst of eloquence explained how his boy Moses had found him. Moses, the hero of the hour, stood abashed before the encomiums of Mrs. Mifsud. He twirled his hat at a fearful rate on his doubled fist, standing awkwardly on one foot the while.,
“When Moses is growed up, Mar, I think it ’ud be jist lovely fer him to be in the Mounted P’lice. He’s so clever at findin’ things an’ he’d look jist grand in the clothes,” enthused Betty.
The three men lined up in front of the closed door, and one of the deputies quickly threw it open. For an instant the officers stood motionless with weapons drawn. Billy watched with fascinated eyes; the moment the door opened forgot orders, ran and crouched behind the Sheriff, peering under his uplifted arm. There in the lurid firelight that streamed through the closed window, stood the two men he had seen before, hands up, rigid, staring into pistol barrels. Floor boards were torn up; strange vessels, scales, various paraphernalia Billy could not understand, lay about them; while in a deep hole they had dug, a small, iron-bound chest was partially covered with earth. The men’s faces were smutched, streaming with perspiration, and pale with terror.
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“His tail’s druv in too far fer to waggle much though,” returned Moses eyeing the diminutive stump.
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All but May Nell; when Edith and Mrs. Bennett rubbed and warmed her she declared she didn’t need it, and was so absorbed in lamenting the loss of the Fair Ellen, she could think of nothing else.
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“Look he’s been here,” said Betty, pointing to a small footprint in the moist soil, “An’ he’s headed down the crick.”
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>CHAPTER XI.—JONAH AND THE WHALE.
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