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When the two arrived, Nell Gordon was sitting with the sick child and crooning softly to her. Howard Eliot drew near, accidentally touching the firm round arm of Nell as he did so.,“O Billy, it hurts the ears of my mind to hear you say those vulgar words.” May Nell, playing “man” for the first time in her life, looked up from the “rod of grade” that she was piling deftly with a broken shingle. The color from sun and exercise added much to her beauty. She was neither blowsy nor smudged like the other children, and her lawn frock was as spotless as in the morning.,“We’re seven,” came the echo.,“Murder! Murder!” he shouted with all his strength; and his boy’s voice reached far up and down the lonely distances.,Mrs. Bennett smiled at her mistake and went in, while Billy took up his mower. The girls looked at one another in the mute scrutiny children bestow on newcomers, May Nell the least embarrassed of the three.,But ideas came flooding into Betty’s active mind. The desire to fill her box, augmented by an even greater desire to let Moses see she didn’t need his shekels, sent electrical energy to her brain.,“Sure!” Billy assented, heartily. “I take it back about old Sir Thomas; I guess they’re equal partners, after all.”,“No, I didn’t forget; the water was low, and I left it running on purpose. But it’s that west wind; she’s a hummer. She can pump faster ’n the old waste pipe can discharge.”,“Oh, Betsey, give it to me!” he whispered in agony of soul. “Don’t let up’s long’s I live! Maybe I’ve killed her!”,The sun shone brightly and the atmosphere had that brilliant clarity, peculiar to the prairie. Several chattering magpies strutted on the grassplot between the house and the barn. Betty ran around to the further side of the house where lay the garden. Here Moses and his mother were already hard at work.,At last the long-looked-for day arrived and by two o’clock eight children from the nearest ranches had ridden or had been brought by grownups to the Wopp farm, all arrayed in their best bibs and tuckers.,Choosing a piece of bright yellow chalk she began to inscribe the golden text on the blackboard. She pressed too hard and the chalk cracked and fell to the floor. Pete Stolway vaulted out of his chair to capture the yellow pencil, but he had the misfortune to step on both the pieces of crayon, crushing them to sand, a heap of yellow grit..
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