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CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG,“Yes, I can see that the wind, the shaking tower, the creaking mill, would bring such dreams,” his mother said. “Hear the wind howl now!”,When the party reached the house and St. Elmo had been received with every manifestation of joy, Mr. Wopp in one burst of eloquence explained how his boy Moses had found him. Moses, the hero of the hour, stood abashed before the encomiums of Mrs. Mifsud. He twirled his hat at a fearful rate on his doubled fist, standing awkwardly on one foot the while.,Moses’ teeth chattered. It was not cold, but wash-day meant to the unhappy boy a dismal round of duties.,“To think you let that good-fer-nothin’ Ken Judson, meet our schoolmarm,” wailed Mrs. Wopp. “Why he is the most ungodly feller in town. His folks in England send him a lot of money so’s he will keep away from them, an’ he spends it all in drinkin’ an’ gamblin’.”,“When Moses is growed up, Mar, I think it ’ud be jist lovely fer him to be in the Mounted P’lice. He’s so clever at findin’ things an’ he’d look jist grand in the clothes,” enthused Betty.,It seemed to him that his voice made no sound; that May Nell never ran so slowly; that the travellers would surely not hear him, not stop. How could they hear in all the noise?,The kettle which had been boiling itself hoarse for the last hour, was now called into requisition.,“I want Howard Eliot,” she cried, “he can sing so lovely, an’ I want Miss Gordon, she’s so comfortin’.”,“Wisht I had two bits.”,“By this time Joner was snorin’ in the bottom of the boat, an’ the man that was bossin’ the ship comes up to Joner an’ woke him an’ arsked him to pray.”,But a second idea came that made him fidget about the room, lift his bandage and watch the children on their way to school. His record for attendance for the year had so far been perfect. He knew that he owed it partly to his mother’s tireless watch of the clock, and wondered why he had not realized this before. Now it was to be broken; she would be as sorry as he could be; and it would have counted well toward the prize. He tried to calculate how many days he could be absent and still have left some chance of it. The work was all reviewing, he almost knew it, anyway. If he only had his books,—but no, they wouldn’t let him use his eyes..