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“I’m sorry to make you late with your mowing, Billy, but I must have you go out to Mrs. Prettyman’s for some cream she promised me.”,In spite of the grave situation, the officer smiled at Billy’s entreating words, remembered suddenly the danger from both fire and possible lurking desperadoes. “All right. Get behind that tree, and stay out of the reach of stray shot.”,“Did you hev a good time in the city larst week, Mis’ Mifsud?” asked Mrs. Wopp, politely.,Across to the girls’ side he flew. He knew Jean. She would manage somehow, no matter what the difficulty. And he did not trust her without reason. She was already in her shining misty robe that was to change her from Rain to Dew; but she caught the gray mantle, covered herself with it as she ran, and was in the wings almost as soon as Billy.,The effulgence of Mrs. Wopp’s smile was somewhat obscured by “I told you so’s,” but the aroma of the steaming teapot soon restored its radiance.,The audience made an impetuous dash to the scene of the fatality and as he stooped over the dripping yellow-frocked figure a jolt of even greater proportions upset the bucket entirely; a deluge of the unsavory mixture almost knocked off his knightly helmet and trickled from its rusty edges till he looked like a very rotund and rakish Don Quixote.,“Aint Miss Gordon a lovely dancer?” she interrogated, “and aint she lovely herself? I’ve been watollin’ you an’ her dance all evenin’. Moses says he’s almost wore out one eye lookin’ at you both. He says he don’t go in strong fer teachers, but he thinks Miss Gordon is worth an eyestrain anyways.”,Through the Stygian darkness of the loft loomed the figure of Mrs. Wopp, a white apron of huge dimensions indicating her presence. She made as though to descend the ladder.,Billy hesitated a minute. The dim room, the wicked-looking red lights, Bess so stern and mysterious,—this might frighten the little girl. He ought to wait.,Now he crept through the brush by the roadside till he came close under the west wall. The setting sun blazed red fire at him from the windows, reminding him sharply of the hour.,“But where does our fun come in? Girls don’t build railroads,” Bess complained.,Mrs. Wopp’s eyes fell on the stained shawl..