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"Oh yes you will," echoed another voice on the left, and on the right still another voice chanted. "You will, you will." "I guess your Dad don't think much of us folks down here, does he?" Billy asked. "Go in presently and see if she's done, and ask if she'll have some fruit pie or cake, and report if the tray is still on the deck.".

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"Oh shucks! What's the use of thinkin' 'bout that now? We've gotta catch them robbers first, ain't we?" October's second morning dawned sullen and grey, with a chill wind banking slate-hued clouds in the sky. Deacon Ringold, taking the short cut across the stubble-fields to Wilson's, shivered as he glanced back at the black lines his feet had cut through the crisp white frost, and decided to put on his woolen underclothes right away. The deacon had important and disturbing news to convey to his neighbor and had started out early to seek his counsel. Lucy had related much, but she had much more to tell, and she narrated to her father fresh stories of her madness, and drew several graphic pictures of Mr Lawrence whilst he laboured under the various sensations her genius as an untutored artist excited. She spoke with contempt of Mr Eagle, whilst she had little or nothing to say about Mr Pledge. Her narratives were marked by a strong leaning in favour of Mr Lawrence. Her father could not mistake. Her prejudice, indeed her fondness, was expressed not so much in her admirable recitals and her references to the dignified and gentlemanly manner with which Mr Lawrence had treated her, with which he had received her aggravating, indeed her venomous, references to his past and present conduct, as in the pause, the soft, thoughtful smile, the brief exclamation, the sigh, and[Pg 408] now and again the little but significant remark. Captain Weaver reflected. "To-day, sir," he said, "is Toosday. I'll engage to be under way by Saturday.".