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Billy looked searchingly at his new friend. "I never told a soul how I did it, 'cept my chum, Maurice Keeler," he said. "But I'll tell you. That same evenin' I was prowlin' through the slashin' lookin' fer white grubs fer bass-bait. I found a big rotten stump, so I pushed it over, an' right down under the roots I found an old weasel an' six half-grown kittens. Afore she could get over her surprise, I had her an' her family in the tin pail I had with me, an' the cover on. By rights I should'a killed the whole caboodle of 'em, I s'pose, 'cause they're mighty hard on the birds; but I had work fer 'em to do. "It's a good fri'nd ye've been t' me, Caleb," he said gratefully, as he lifted the jug and held it between his knees. "It's do widout me dhrink I cannot. Ut an' me whistle are me only gleams av sunlight in the gloom. I'll be after takin' a little flash of the light now, if ut's no objection ye have, for ut's long dhry I've been." He lifted the jug and took a long draught of its fiery contents. Maurice's white face slowly expanded in a grin. He glanced in the direction of his mother, then held out his hand to the crow with a lowspoken, "Come Croaker, ol' feller." "No, we'll drive her home now. I guess I know what's best. Get on t'other side of her. Now then, don't let her turn back!".