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“It’s my fault, too, Mrs. Bennett; don’t put the blame all on Billy,” Jean half sobbed; and hurried after him. Which last order was the signal for a giddy frolic. Finally, “Everybody promenade, you know where,” and the dancers joined the spectators on the benches. He kept his hands from hers, and begged her not to touch the handkerchief he had bound around his head; but before his story was finished, a growing stain on the pillow had oozed into sight..

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“I kin tell you, Mrs. Wopp. He met with an accident comin’ over. He was gittin’ through Abe Bower’s wire fence to save goin’ round by the gate when Ben Bower’s bull-dog ‘Jeff’ caught sight of him. Next minute Joe seen the bull-dog comin’ an’ started back through the fence. Land sakes! The tear he got in the seat of his pants was somethin’ shockin’.” “What’s the harm? She’s on Mr. Potter’s land, and the road’s near.” Billy went to the door and looked after them. No one was in sight. Harold, the twins, and May Nell, too, were gone. What could it mean? He looked back at the clock. Nearly ten. Usually the Gang gathered earlier than this, hung around and hurried him with his work, many putting in lusty strokes, that Billy, the favorite, might the sooner be released. But now even Jean, his stanch second in all the fun going, was late. He had expected to be late himself; he always was. But he, who planned most of the sport in spite of doing more work than any of them, had this day expected his schemes to be well launched before he could join in them. “The darned old robber!” Billy started up and walked restlessly toward the door..