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Norah Bliggins, whose nose was already moist from the effects of domestic discord, thrust a chubby finger into her mouth and began to pucker up her eyes preparatory to emitting a howl of dismay at being singled out for the first question. Her brother Pat, sensing the situation, put up his hand eagerly and answered for her.,“Yeh, Mar.”,She took the child in her comforting arms. “Don’t cry, little one! We shall find her, never fear.”,As the door into the dining-room opened to the little guests, St. Elmo Mifsud’s eyes almost darted out of his head, for there on the centre of a bountifully-spread table stood an enormous chocolate cake with eleven candles burning on it. The revelation supplied a fitting climax for the epochal event of a thrilling picture show.,The green-eyed monster, always seeking prey, had at last found a victim, and proceeded in true green-eyed fashion to wage ruthless warfare.,The hours passed in an uproar of fun. The table was dismantled, toys, tools, and dishes put away, and the feast had sped into the past.,Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below.,“Look he’s been here,” said Betty, pointing to a small footprint in the moist soil, “An’ he’s headed down the crick.”,“I think you’ve broke my neck, kid,” he said, feebly, as quaking Billy helped him to his feet.,In this mood he turned into the main road and came upon Jackson limping, bloody, and crying.,Mrs. Wopp’s eyes fell on the stained shawl.,“How in the name of orl the aporstles did that hen git in there?” questioned Mrs. Wopp..