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"Oh, gollies! Right into their decoys," he groaned. "Now they'll give it to 'em, jest as they're settlin'.",

A little further on Billy came face to face with Hinter. "How are you, Billy?" spoke the man, pleasantly. "Still driving the cows down to the lake for water, I see.",

The Admiral's face wore an expression that was almost imbecile with bewilderment.,

With broadening day the gale had strengthened. Stanhope felt a few stinging snow-pellets on his face, as he gazed, unseeing, outward and waited with tense nerves for the hail of his young friend. Half an hour passed—it seemed like hours to the man waiting, hoping, fearing—and still Billy did not come. He replenished the fire and, his hand coming in contact with the coat which Billy had discarded, he held it on his knees, close to the little stove. Slowly the minutes dragged past and a cold dread of what might have happened grew in the blind man's heart. Billy had likely reached the boat only in time to see it founder and in striving to save its exhausted occupants——.

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Billy moved forward, halting a safe distance from his mother. "You'll remember, Ma, that Anse's pants has two hip pockets, an mine only one.",

"And then she says, frowning as though she'd up with a knife off the tray and run it into me, 'What have you got there?' 'Your dinner, your ledyship,' says I. 'Put it down upon the floor!' says she in a sort of shriek, as if she was trying to sing. 'Don't you see I'm in tatters? They've got me here who am a princess at home, and these are my rags and all I've got,' says she, spreading her dress with her hands as though she was goin' to skip. 'Beggars[Pg 266] in rags feed on the floor: they feed so. Anywhere's good enough for them. I've seen 'em sitting on the edge of ditches eating. Put the food on the floor! That's how princesses in tatters dine.' I did as I was ordered, your honour, and came away.",

"She held out her apron, an' I lefted the lid off the pail and pours what's in it into her lap.,

And now he was back again; and this time he did not intend to risk his life in those sucking sands. From a couple of dead saplings, with the aid of wild grape-vines, he fashioned a light raft which would serve as a support in the bog, and carry his weight in the putrid mire beyond. Strange sounds came to his ears as he worked his way across the desolate waste toward the first great pond—scurrying, rustling sounds of hidden things aroused from their security. Once a big grey snake stirred from torpor to lift its head and hiss at him. Billy lifted it aside with his pole and went on.