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"Is that why people don't go near your place, 'cause they're scared of the dogs?" Billy asked.,

Sir William now rose from the table and went to an armchair at the open window, upon the seat or ledge of which stood a jar of tobacco, some clay pipes, and a little machine for firing a match dipped in brimstone, a very ingenious contrivance as old as the days of the second Charles: namely, a little pistol-shaped fire-maker whose trigger struck a full and brilliant spark from the flint and kindled the tinder. He filled his pipe and lighted it, and sat in conversation with his son, in whom the particular humour or mood would have been extremely hard to settle by the most sagacious of critical observers. He was speedy in answering his father, and his language did not show much abstraction of mind; but even the Admiral noticed that there was an undercurrent of thought in his son which was pursuing a very different course from the stream as it appeared on the surface.,

"There's never been a ghost that ever roamed nights been able to get near it. You kin ask Tom Dodge er any of the other Injuns if there has.",

It was long after his mother had left the loft and Anse's wails of protest and wild promises of vengeance had given place to the regular breathing of peaceful sleep that Billy lay awake, gazing wide-eyed through the dark.

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"Gee whitticker!" exclaimed Billy. "I wish now I hadn't promised you I'd come in. All right, lead on. Let's get the funeral over with.",

Croaker, mincing in and out among the rag-weeds, led straight across the yard to a tiny ramshackle building which at one time might have been a root-house. Billy, feeling that at any moment an icy hand might reach out and grip his windpipe, followed. It was a terrible risk he was running but the prize was worth it. His feet seemed weighted with lead. At last he reached the root-house and leaned against it, dizzy and panting. Then he looked about for Croaker. The crow had vanished!,

"He went back and got it," said the girl, in answer to Billy's look of amazement. "And, Billy, he flew away in an awful grouch.",

Stanhope sank back on his box, his relaxed nerves throbbing and his lips forming the words: "Thank God!"