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He lifted the board, trying its weight. Could he ever get it safely placed? Higher he lifted it, and began to let it drop; but he saw that if the other end missed the window sill, it would pull him down to the court below. Frantic, he stared about for help, for inspiration. He dared not wait till the passers came in hearing; the sound of his voice calling might too soon rouse men inside, make them shoot perhaps. As it was he expected every minute to see a swarthy face appear, a hand with a knife or pistol. It was not for himself he feared, but for May Nell, the little girl who for some strange reason was worth something to these desperadoes, and whose life would be on his soul if he did not save her.,

“But I asked for her, mamma.” Billy’s voice lost its exuberance. His mother never had looked so tired, he thought for the second time that day.,

“Be keerful how you shoot that checker Betty or we’re goin’ to git beat,” admonished Moses. He found himself opposed to no mean antagonists.,

The Bennetts’ was one of the oldest places in town, and the most beautiful. It was near the heart of the growing village ambitiously calling itself a city. Level lawns protected by high hedges and shaded by many trees, spread amply around the house and back to the first terrace, where a tangle of berry vines covered trellises that shut off a lower level devoted to vegetables. Beyond this was the chickens’ domain, rock-dotted acres that sloped sharply to where Runa Creek boiled over its stony bed. Here mother hens fluttered and scolded while web-footed broods paddled in the edges of the stream.

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“He’s jist the plainest gorl-darndest dorg in the worl’, but me an’ Betty thinks heaps of him, an’ Job’s lorst one eye but he’s a dandy live feather duster orl right.” Gestures and grins illuminated this earnest speech.,

Bess’s coming launched the procession. People in the vicinity who had not before known of the presence of a circus, knew it now. Everybody talked at once, and every living thing made its own kind of a noise. Billy as Master of Ceremonies had his hands full, his voice full too, one might say.,

“Don’t worry me Mosey, this is a ’portant day,” then turning to Miss Gordon she added, “I’ll take ’sturtiums an’ larkspur an’ sweet peas an’ you’ll be ever so happy lookin’ at them.” A busy silence ensued.,

But he was not to be hindered. “It’s only a scratch, mother; you can fuss it up all you want to later; but you mustn’t stop me now!” He pulled away from her and bounded up the path.