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Yet it was a very quiet little child that crept down to the others a few minutes later; when asked of her fortune she burst into tears. “No ‘chase’ to-day, girls. I’ve got business in town.” He climbed cat-like to the crest again, slid through the brush, dashed across bare spots, jumped from rocks that jutted in his way, struck stones but righted himself before falling, truly “hit only the high places,” as he breathlessly told the girls waiting for him at Ellen’s Isle..

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“Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.” “Poor little Billy! You’ve had a hard night of it.” “Our house isn’t big enough.” Billy took the can she held toward him, and made a face that was half fun, half discontent, yet not unloving. As his mother turned indoors he noticed again that she was pale, and that her shoulders drooped; and a sudden heat rose in his heart against the widowhood and poverty that made it necessary for her to work so hard. When he grew to be a man, he told himself, he would buy her a diamond ring and a silk dress; and she should sit all day in the big rocking chair and work no more..