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"Elgin Scraff," spoke up Billy, promptly. "Oh, he's been raisin' high jinks with Ma ag'in," explained Billy. "He will get his claws full o' dirt an' pigeon-toe along her line of clean clothes, as soon as her back's turned." "Glad to see you safely back, Captain Weaver," cried Miss Acton..

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During the closing hymn Billy managed to evade the eyes of his elders long enough to slip outside. He wanted to be alone—alone to ponder over this great and wonderful thing that had come into his life. It was love—yes it certainly was love, strong worshipful love such as comes to but few, and to those few only once. Such love had made Trigger Finger Tim leap a fifty-foot chasm, swim a swift, ice-encumbered river and fight single-handed a band of painted savages to free his sweetheart from their murderous clutches. Billy knew that he would do as much for her! "Gee! how am I to know; it's right here somewheres, though." "And thank him," twittered Miss Acton, "for the beautiful sermon he gave us last Sunday, and tell him I am looking forward to such another next Sunday." Billy puckered up his lips, but his effort was a failure. "You try, Maurice," he said, "I can't jest keep the hole in my mouth steady long enough t' whistle.".