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“Yes, go away, Billy; I’m not afraid.” May Nell laughed happily. Her quick mind was delighted with the masquerading. “This is a lyre, very old,” said Mr. Crump, handling an ancient instrument tenderly. Moses looked up suddenly, he hoped nothing he had said called forth the remark. A shiver chased up and down Billy’s spine. He knew the Sheriff by sight only; and he was so inseparable from the handcuffs the boy had seen protruding from a pocket, that Billy felt it would “almost fasten suspicion on a fellow just to be seen speaking to the officer.”.
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Conrad
Billy cuddled down in the low-growing manzanitas, whose screen was further thickened by a tangle of wild pea vines all a-bloom. Placing himself so that he could watch both the house and the man on the hill, he settled to await further disclosures. “Are—are you hurt bad, Jimmy?” came in a quaking voice. A tall, lean, loose-jointed, large-limbed man was enjoying the frosty air and walked briskly humming a gay tune. All at once he found his face upturned to the glorious blue sky and a youthful voice reached his ear, “Did you see the telegraph pole sail over that icy spot?” Then another voice equally youthful, but with a distinct absence of city polish, answered, “Betcher life I seen him, wouldn’t of missed it fer a punkin pie, he’s lookin’ fer gopher holes in the ground yet.” Betty, who had understanding, was not turned from the subject of her thoughts..
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