“O, that chestnut!” scornfully ejaculated Isobel.,
Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below.,
From where he stood Billy could see the distress in her face. He must think of a way to get her, and he must, must hurry!.
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