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The band struck up and, intoxicated with the rhythm of the music, Moses skated as he had never done before. At first an object of amusement to the city boys he became the centre of an admiring throng. His spirals and figure eight’s were such as to call forth envious remarks. Even Clarence Egerton Crump thawed and admitted to several school mates that Moses Wopp was a pretty solid pal, only a bit gawky in his get-up.,
“My feet’s purty well jolted up inter my head,” cried the uncomfortable rider. But Betty insisted on his getting full value for his money, and dared him to descend until the round of the arena had been completed.,
Billy went to the door and looked after them. No one was in sight. Harold, the twins, and May Nell, too, were gone. What could it mean? He looked back at the clock. Nearly ten. Usually the Gang gathered earlier than this, hung around and hurried him with his work, many putting in lusty strokes, that Billy, the favorite, might the sooner be released. But now even Jean, his stanch second in all the fun going, was late. He had expected to be late himself; he always was. But he, who planned most of the sport in spite of doing more work than any of them, had this day expected his schemes to be well launched before he could join in them.,
CHAPTER VI.—AN EVENING IN THE WOPP PARLOR.
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“Well?” she questioned.,
“Take her in,” Billy gasped. “They stole her; they’re after—save her—hurry—” He could say no more, but suddenly collapsed and sank to the ground; and the last sight he remembered was the dark Italian at the house corner, talking fast, with one hand in a sling, the other waving a knife threateningly.,
When she came to this point all her listeners looked for their handkerchiefs. And May Nell stopped suddenly, smiled, and finished, “And God heard me; and Billy rescued me.”,
Betty had lent Moses fifteen cents of her Christmas money and was receiving two pink and white candy canes as her weekly dividend—“truly a lean annuitant.”
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“Then you don’t love yer li’l sister ef you don’t want her to look like you.” Betty almost wept.
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“Don’t Job look jist like Mariar Mifsud goin’ to meetin’,” gurgled Betty.
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>The broad shaft of sunlight that flooded the dining-room where Nell Gordon sat was suddenly darkened. Looking up she saw the tall straight figure of Howard Eliot at the doorway.
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