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“Miss Gordon here, made me a harnsome lace yoke fer an underwaist, an’ give it to me fer my birthday,” volunteered Mrs. Wopp. Betty was still faintly laughing at Moses’ spirited retort to his mother’s observations on his singing. Baffled, yet knowing he had expected it, he ran this way and that, peering round each corner, scanning the bare, high walls to see if by chance some window had been left unbarred. Not one less than a dozen feet from the ground! He ran back to the door, was almost tempted to shake it, yet knew that would be a foolish trick; some one might be within guarding May Nell; might at the first noise still more securely hide her,—they said there were fearfully deep and dark cellars under that house! She might come to—to some dreadful harm!.

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“So they took up Joner an’ tossed him inter the sea.” The band struck up and, intoxicated with the rhythm of the music, Moses skated as he had never done before. At first an object of amusement to the city boys he became the centre of an admiring throng. His spirals and figure eight’s were such as to call forth envious remarks. Even Clarence Egerton Crump thawed and admitted to several school mates that Moses Wopp was a pretty solid pal, only a bit gawky in his get-up. And the shouts that greeted this fiat shook the old barn and made the hens in the hay cackle with fright. “Why have you been away out in the country for milk?”.