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"It's mighty queer," Billy confessed. "But you see, if that little bird was wise, she'd scoop that crow black bird's egg out o' her nest, instead of hatchin' it." Mr Lawrence pursued the same road home by which he had gained Old Harbour. In all probability had Mr Greyquill not looked back, the young gentleman would have found his letter where he had unconsciously dropped it. That side of the bridge—the up-river water path—was much unfrequented, save on a Sunday, when lovers walked along it, and now and again a little family dressed in their best. It was many chances to one that the two or three who had passed along that path since Mr Lawrence and Mr Greyquill had stood in conversation upon it, would have[Pg 146] picked up the letter or even taken notice of it, so very remote from their ideas of things worth stopping for and examining on the highway was a folded sheet of paper. "Yes, ma'am," answered Billy, promptly..
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Conrad
"You gotta take a chance. I took one." Billy urged the punt forward across the creek to where the grinning and highly delighted Maurice waited. "Gee whitticker!" gasped Billy, "you must been havin' an argument with a mule. Who give you that black eye an' split lip, Anse?" As Hinter picked up his hat Erie entered and the light words he was about to speak died on his lips at sight of the girl's stricken face. "You are tired," he said, in deep concern. "The work of tending the lights alone is too much for you. Why not let me send someone from the Settlement to help you, at least until your father is strong enough to take up his end of the work again?" "It's jest a bad cold he's caught," Billy reassured her. "He's so hoarse he can't speak.".
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