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Out behind the wood-shed Maurice Keeler, by the dim light of a smoky lantern, was splitting kindling for the morning's fire when something clammy and twisting dropped across the back of his neck. He glanced at her closely, struck by the odd note in her voice. "He seems a manly little chap," he said. "I must get to know him better." At the sound of the girl's voice the swamp coon had dropped the cookie, and as she swept him into her arms his slender red tongue darted forth to give the curling tress above her ear an affectionate caress. Ringdo recognized in Erie the playmate who used to romp with him and stray with him along spongy moss and clayey ditches..
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CHAPTER VIII LUCK RIDES THE STORM "He ought'a get a taste o' the gad hisself," muttered Maurice. "An' he's goin' to be our teacher, oh, Gash! Well, I kin see where me an' Billy Wilson gets ourn—maybe." "What?" The lawyer was on his feet and had his hands on Frank's shoulders. She turned and the blood mounted swiftly to her white cheeks. "And did he feel the light again, Billy?" she whispered eagerly..
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