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On Moses Wopp devolved the responsibility of driving the ladies of the household over the two miles of prairie lying between the Wopp ranch and that of Mrs. Mifsud. Betty, too, was going. The Ladies’ Aid did not meet every day, nor had it always on hand the alluring business of an autograph quilt, on which flourished in outlined boldness the name of every man, woman and child in the district and many out of it.,

“Yes, sister says he’s rare, Persian or something; but I guess he’s only a plain cat. He’s a lazy thing.”,

“No; well,” came the answer.,

“She’s there, old dog!” Billy caught Bouncer’s nose tight in his hand to prevent a repetition; and at that instant May Nell herself appeared at the window!

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CHAPTER XVII BILLY TO-DAY,

Along the ridge of soft sand left by receding waters Billy let his first contract to Harold, who immediately marshalled the “kindergarten” with their broken fire shovels, kitchen spoons, what not, and set them to digging briskly. “Straight to the line, mind you,” he sang out from time to time, as he set his pins along the line the “engineers had run.” Max was superintendent of telegraph construction; and Charley Strong, “the Strong Man,” and Jackson contracted for the tunnel. They were to start from each side, meet exactly in the middle in sixty days,—a minute stood for a day,—or pay five million dollars fine. And over all Billy kept a watchful eye, cast the glamour of his eager spirit.,

So the hours passed. The two women had their quiet rest till five o’clock when they came down for the usual singing. May Nell had a sweet voice, surprisingly strong for a child; and when she asked to play her own accompaniment to a little song unknown to Edith, the latter was surprised by the child’s skill, and still more by her rare feeling and expression.,

In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”