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Billy threw back his head and laughed, the first hearty laugh he had known for days. Scroggie, in spite of the pain his swollen lips caused him, laughed too. She dropped the yellow blossoms on the mound and they went out into the sunshine together and gathered more. When they had finished the task they went across to the weedy plot in which stood the tumble-down hut. There, seated side by side beneath a gnarled wild-apple tree, Billy told her all he had to tell her, and heard her say, just as he knew she would say, "Billy, I'm glad." "They're wild if you make 'em wild, but if they get to know that you like 'em an' won't hurt 'em, they get real tame. I've got one flock I call my own. I fed 'em last winter when the snow was so deep they couldn't pick up a livin'. They used to come right into our barn-yard for the tailin's I throwed out to 'em.".

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For a time they lay gasping and quivering. Maurice Keeler was the first to speak. "Say, Bill," he shivered, "is it light enough fer you to see if the hair is scorched off one side o' my head? That—that ghost's breath shot blue flame square in my face." "What is that you say?" cried Aunt Caroline, starting in her chair and peering over her gold-rimmed glasses at Mr Lawrence. "Sister, is your opinion of Lucy such that[Pg 191] you imagine she can have anything to do with Mr Lawrence unknown to me?" "If you had somethin' sweet an' soothin' to give him," Billy suggested. "Pine syrup, er hoarhound, er somethin' like that, now—".