some of Mrs. Shute’s precious purple geraniums but he could not stop to go around them. The house had a silent, shut-up air that made his heart go down the moment he looked at it. Suppose they were all away; suppose there was no help to be had! He jangled loudly at the big bell, then, almost before it had stopped vibrating, jangled loudly and impatiently again. There was absolute silence inside at first; then, oh, what a relief; footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs, along the hall; there was an irritating pause as some one fumbled at the lock. The door opened and Billy made no attempt to restrain a shout of delight, for there stood Sally.
Sally Shute with her round cheeks and her fat yellow braids and her pink gingham dress looked a very real and wholesome person after all the half-seen terrors and half-felt dangers that had seemed to be around him. Still standing on the doorstep he began hastily to tell her all about what had happened and had got nearly half-way through his tale before she interrupted him.
“Come in,” she ordered, “and begin again and tell me that all over. I have not under-
