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There was a strange weight in his left side, like lead. He felt as if the whole world was against him; and the future looked dark and terrible. Three days ago life had reached out, a white shining road to success. Only three days! He looked north to where clouds were shutting down over the Mountain, gray to-day, not blue. The Mountain, every one called it, for it closed the valley and towered, a sentinel, far above all other mountains in view. Billy thought that stood for him; he was to be chained to this narrow valley all his life; struggle as he might he should never be free.,And Billy seeing sweet potatoes sticking out of hot ashes, and other luxuries in evidence, concluded that some business was “doin’ among the girls,” where he wouldn’t be welcome. He went back to the “Front,” where some of the contractors were having a violent altercation over the meaning of certain specifications. The Boss soon arbitrated successfully, and things moved “lively” for a short time, when the[55] banging of a dishpan announced dinner at “the hotel.”,“Lady of the Lake?” she finished quickly in a question. “Do you know that, too? I love it.”,Billy heard the hatted one say “So long!” saw him start down a path that followed close beside the stream, perfectly hidden from any one who might be walking the crests above. The other man brought a pail and started up the hill.,“Stop!” his upheld warning hand said to May Nell. He found his knife, cut his lashings, and beckoned to her vehemently. He waited only for the crash of glass and sash, when he threw himself outstretched on the ground, and pushed the board hard against the lower edge of the window frame.,“I hate to have you stay without Jean,” Billy objected.,In desperation he stood still, gazing at the windows above; reprimanding the dog sharply when he whined, though his fingers unconsciously patted away the sting of the rebuke.,“Nothin’.”,Wait till the clouds roll by.”,“Oh, Lord, she’s orl I got,” he wailed. He hinted that there would be no more light in him, than in Job’s blind eye, should Betty be lost to him.,[89]“Mother, do come and look at the procession,” Edith called cautiously from the trellises, where she was slyly watching.,“Feel that muscle,” he said a moment later; bending his arm, and pressing her fingers to it. “That’s got to grow by a broom or hoe, something besides football!”.