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The child had been content to extract but fleeting moments of sweetness from the confection and as the weeks passed had in the time-honored custom kept the canes shining. Thus accumulated quite a bagful of the tempting sweets. These she sold to a haughty plutocrat at school for a dime. This coin of the realm made a pleasing clatter in her wooden box; but she reflected, not without some degree of logic, that ten cents would not go very far in carrying salvation to the suffering heathen in Africa.,“Just like a football champion,” Billy interrupted.,Billy entered with a cat under each arm. “Geewhillikins,” he introduced, “the best fighter in town,” and put down a stub-tailed, gray cat, half as large as the house pets, with “tom-cat” speaking from every hair of him. “I think mamma’s partial,—she lets sister’s cats come in the house, but not mine.”,Billy slipped quickly to cover again where he could watch unseen. The men’s faces were black with passion, and their low, intense words seemed all the more deadly because strange, foreign. A coat split down the back with a ripping report, and the boy saw the flash of a knife, and turned away feeling sick.,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.,Mrs. Bennett rose and tucked him in snugly. “Let us drop it till school closes, Billy. Then we’ll talk it over.”,“Why do you think he would have whipped you?”,“Geegustibus! You kids are doin’ a fine job,” Billy encouraged, as he walked by the line of little bending, sweating backs. “There never was a railroad built on the square like this. Contractors on time; men a-workin’ that’s got brains an’ ain’t afraid to use ’em. Jiminy crickets, it’s fine!”,“Well, I must get at my job, too. That’s thinking up things. You fellers do your work an’ get your money; but I got to rustle that money or bust.”,“Well now Howard Eliot I carnt see nothin’ in that to larf at. It is grand readin’. Do read another,” said Mrs. Wopp.,“’Cause I love you, ’n’ I hope the edges’ll be all pink like my mornin’-glories.”,CHAPTER XVII.—A SAMPLE OF EBENEZER WOPP’S IRE..