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"Who knows what lies before us?" said Captain Acton.,

"She is going out for a little cruise, no doubt," said Lucy.,

"I dunno. Down where he keeps his pets I s'pose. Why?",

"Now, then," declared Scroggie, tossing his hat on the sward and drying his moist palms on his trouser-legs, "I'm goin' to black your eyes and pummel the nose off your face."

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"Perhaps so," returned the old gentleman dryly, "but, you see, I happen to have heard an opinion of friend Ringdo's gentle nature from a certain learned pedagogue, whose wounds I dressed recently. So, my dear young lady, if you will be good enough to keep tight hold of him for a moment, I'll follow my renowned friend into the parlor and learn how Frank is coming along." And suiting the action to the words he edged slowly around the table and, backing into the parlor, closed the door.,

Back in the schoolyard a real old fashioned indignation meeting was being held by thirty lusty boys and girls. That any man, teacher or no teacher, should come into their beloved Settlement and announce that he had no use for it or its people and go on his way unscathed was beyond all understanding. Something would have to be done about it; but what? It was Billy who climbed up on the school fence, called order and offered the one sure solution to the problem.,

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.",

Landon knit his shaggy brows. "I don't know, Chick. I'm afraid he still hopes. He has as much as told me so. 'We've been too hasty with her,' he said, 'we must have patience.'"