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“They won’t be watching for visitors,” the man answered; “they’ll be hiding the plant and skinning out of here,—if they haven’t already,” he added apprehensively. He stood[217] back to the wind and scanned the opposite bank. “There they are, two of our fellows; the chaps haven’t escaped in that direction.”,

Billy entered with a cat under each arm. “Geewhillikins,” he introduced, “the best fighter in town,” and put down a stub-tailed, gray cat, half as large as the house pets, with “tom-cat” speaking from every hair of him. “I think mamma’s partial,—she lets sister’s cats come in the house, but not mine.”,

Diligently as Betty had tended this little garden, it was considered to be a family possession, the child’s own particular treasures lying beyond its fragrant border. Her cherished morning-glories and climbing nasturtiums found a welcome support in the old wooden fence.,

“O, Mosey, these leaves is lovely, an’ jist look here roun’ the edge, looks like the fairies has left footprints!”

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The Mifsud ranch-house was situated in a valley close to Ripple Creek. This stream was guarded in its serpentine course by a fringe of trees which extended several rods on each side. Moses drove up to the house door with a flourish and his passengers alighted. His mother paused a moment to urge, “Be sure an’ git yer chores done early, Moses, an’ you an’ Par be here fer supper by six o’clock.”,

It took two hands to hold the dog’s mouth shut now; and for a minute that Billy thought much longer, it seemed as if he never would be able to make him keep quiet. But he succeeded at last, and turned again to see May Nell standing in full view with her finger on her lips.,

“Do you like to work?” His tone was insistent; and he lifted his head and looked hard at her, as if to challenge the tiniest bit of insincerity that might be lurking back of the words. “Like to work?” he repeated with added emphasis.,

“Miss Gordon, with all his book larnin’ he knowed no more ’bout black-jack than I know ’bout divin’ fer pearls, and the Bullock boys thort he was no good anyhow, ef he couldn’t beat their Par at cards. So one mornin’ they met him as he was goin’ to school, an’ they give him a good beatin’ up, then flung him in Rodd’s creek to cool him, bein’ winter. He crawled outer the creek, Miss Gordon, an’ never went to the school no more. It shorely was a jedgement on him fer playin’ those wicked card games. Moses, parse the ketchup.”