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"Bah! mommie's baby boy won't fight?" taunted the eager one. "But by gollies! I'm goin' to make you," he added, scowling fiercely.,

"Jest you wait a bit and you'll find that out. Nixt day I go down there ag'in to look fer me charm, but find ut I did not. Then wid me little jug in me hand and me whistle in me bosom, did I strike across woods to the Twin Oaks store, there to learn av the robbery. A little bit av drink did I get from Spencer, an' takin' ut home was I when an accident I had, an' spilled ut. Well, ut was afther several days av hard toil, wid not so much as a drop left in me little jug, that one mornin' as I was cuttin' through the lower valley fer Thompson's tater-patch, that come to me ut did I'd search a bit fer me lost charm ag'in.,

Billy shook his head. "I'd sort o' like to," he said, slowly, "jest to find out what game they're up to, but I guess if we know what's good fer us we'll go home an' take off these wet duds. Hard lookin' customers, wasn't they?",

The morning wood-mists were warm, sweet-scented; the wood-birds' song of thanksgiving was glad with the essence of God-given life. But the man astride the dejected and weary horse saw none of the beauties of his surroundings, heard none of the harmony, experienced none of the exhilaration of the life all about him, as he rode slowly down the winding trail between the trees. He sat erect in his saddle, eyes fixed straight before him. His face was strong and seamed with tiny lines. The prominence of his features was accentuated by the thinness of the face. Beady black eyes burned beneath the shadows of heavy brows. A shock of iron-grey hair brushed his shoulders. In one hand he held a leather-bound book, a long thumb fixed on the printed page from which his attention had been momentarily diverted by his survey of the woodland scene.

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"But, Billy Bye, supposin' the cold-eyed burruds an' the hissin' serpents should be returnin' to threaten me wance ag'in?",

"She made me put the tray on the deck, sir," answered Paul, "and I see her running her eyes over it, and she says, 'Where's the knife, you man of the forest?' I says, 'I don't know, mum.'",

Billy had heard that when one comes face to face with death the misdeeds of the life about to go out crowd into one brief second of darting reality before one. He had never quite believed it but he believed it now. If only he might have his misspent life to live over again! Never again would he steal Deacon Ringold's melons or swap broken-backed, broken-bladed jack-knives for good ones with the Sand-sharks, nor frighten his brother Anson with tales of witches and goblins. But that chance was not for him. It was, perhaps, natural that his last earthly thought would be of her. Her sweet face shone through the choking mists—her trembling lips were murmuring a last "good bye." Did she know what a wonderful influence her entrance into his heart had exerted toward his reform? With an effort he opened his eyes. The white, gliding thing was almost upon him now. He tried to shake off frozen terror and run. He could not move a muscle. He groaned and shut his eyes tight, waiting for the icy touch of a spirit-hand. It found him after what seemed an eternity of waiting—but it was very soft and warm instead of clammy and cold and the voice which spoke his name was not in the least sepulchral.,

A gleam of satisfaction lit Anson's shifty eyes. "All right," he said shortly, and went off after the herd.