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The sehoolhouse stood with a wide sloping green before it and a tangle of second growth forest behind it. It was not an old building, but had the appearance of senile old age. Its coat of cheap terra-cotta paint had cracked into many wrinkles; its windows looked dully out like the lustreless eyes of an old, old man. The ante-room roof had been blown off by a winter's gale and replaced inaccurately, so that it set awry, jaunty and defiant, challenging the world. Its door hung on one hinge, leaning sleepily against a knife-scarred wall. A rail fence ran about the yard which was filled to choking with a rank growth of smart-weed. In one corner of the yard was a well with a faded blue pump holding the faded red arm of a handle toward the skies, as though evoking high heaven to bear witness that it was never intended to lead such a lonely and useless existence. Billy had not only accommodated the trouble-seekers in this regard but had nearly knocked the noses off their freckled faces as well, after which he had proceeded to lick, on sight, each and every Sand-sharker with whom his lonely rambles brought him in contact. But his victories lacked the old time zest. He missed Maurice's "Gee! Bill, that left swing to his eye was a corker"; missed Elgin's offer to bet a thousand dollars that Billy Wilson could lick, with one hand tied behind him, any two Sand-sharkers that ever smelled a smoked herrin'. Victory was indeed empty of glory. And so the glad days were sad days for Billy. It was an empty world. What boy in Billy's place would not have been low-spirited under like conditions? What boy would not have paused, as he was doing now, to itemize his woes? "Oh." Billy took hold of his arm, "Then them snakes an' man-eatin' birds you've been seein' are your own business, too; an' since you've been ninny enough to stray into this shanty, I'm goin' to put you back in it an' see that you stay in it.".

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"Maybe jest 'cause you're a sneak," Billy answered, "but you're my brother an' I don't want anythin' horrible to happen to you if I kin help it. The best thing fer you to do is keep mum, an' when you see me strikin' off anywhere look t'other way." "But Dad don't need it," Jim declared. "He's rich now." "You found her?" cried Cobin, leaping up. "That Croaker's a witch? Of course he's a witch, an' so's Ringdo. They both know exactly what you're thinkin', an' what you're doin'. Listen, you," as Anse shivered. "Didn't you dream, jest t'other night, that Croaker was bendin' over you to peck your eyes out?".