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Then between them fell silence, filled with understanding and contentment and thoughts that ran parallel the same long track through future promise. Billy spoke, at length: "He's goin' to take the school ag'in. An' him an' me are goin' to build that sail-boat we've always wanted—a big broad-beamed, single sticker that'll carry all of us—you, me, teacher, Erie an' anybody wants to come along. Gee! ain't it great?",

"I was goin' down the path to the road, Anse with me, when the teacher went past, runnin' fer all he was worth. Come to think of it his coat had been clawed some, an' I remember now his face was bleedin' from a scratch er two. He didn't see us an' he didn't stop. He kept right on goin'. Anse an' me went on to the school, an' there we found Ringdo jest finishin' the teacher's lunch. I brought him back an' put him in his cage. That's all, Ma, an' it's every blessed word true.",

"Dogs and children," repeated the lawyer. "Dogs and children." He stood looking away through the failing light to where a strip of mauve-lined sky peeked through the heavy tissue of cloud.,

A full moon was veiling lake and bay in sheen of silvery whiteness as Hinter and Erie went out into the August night. Eastward the long pine covered Point swept a dark line against the grey, shadowy rush-lands. Somewhere among the hidden ponds mallards and grey ducks were quacking contentedly as they fed. A swamp coon raised his almost human cry as he crept the sandy shores in search of the frogs whose tanging notes boomed from the boglands.

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"Yes, we have done all we came out to do. Where is Mr Eagle? Mr Lawrence, you will not forget to give him the sulphur for his poor feet?",

Anson shuddered. "Aw, who's goin' to peep?' he returned.,

Billy shook his head. "The crow black bird don't want to be bothered with hatchin' an' feedin' her own young. That's why she lays in other bird's nests," he explained. "She jest lays her egg an' beats it out o' there. The other poor little bird waits for her to go. Then she goes back to her nest, glad enough to find it hasn't been torn to bits.",

Billy laid down his knife and fork and smiled reminiscently. "I was jest thinkin' of ol' Harry O'Dule," he said, answering the question in her eyes. "He's quit a bad habit, too. He's quit drinkin'; don't touch a drop any more—hasn't fer over a month now."