THE last week of school arrived. It was almost as good as a holiday, for those who had made the required percentage during the year were excused from examinations, and after roll call, released from attendance; and these included Billy and most of his cronies.  
Mrs. Bennett frequently of the change in Billy. He was growing more thoughtful, observant. He remembered small duties, noticed if mother or sister looked tired or ill, and volunteered help where he would not have known help was needed. Perhaps none of them knew, least of all May Nell herself, how her example of kindness had impressed itself on Billy’s heart.
 
If he was more thoughtful, quiet, at home, his hours of play were more keenly enjoyed as they grew daily fewer. He had found a “dandy job” that would not take him away from home; he could still the lawn, and do the chores. He was glad now that he had learned various parts of the housework, for he was to be and messenger at one of the banks, a fact to be told his mother as a surprise on the last day of school.
 
He went home after the engagement, walking on air and talking aloud to himself. “Gee! I don’t suppose there’s a squinch-eyed ghost of a chance for me to win that prize money; but twenty-five a month’ll pay mamma for what I eat,—and break, I guess.”
 
Billy didn’t see Doctor Carter passing in his buggy, nor hear his greeting; neither did he see the understanding smile; the Doctor easily guessed that Billy was planning fun. And he was; this last week of school should be the happiest ever. Didn’t work begin next Monday? Real work! He couldn’t catch up the bankers in his arms, like his mother, and cajole them into favors. No; it would be all day and every day for a hundred years! Only Sundays, and they didn’t count; for wouldn’t he have to go to church just the same? Mother and sister would be hurt if he “put out to the woods” Sunday mornings. And the bank people, too, would expect him to go to church; hadn’t they said none but steady, well-behaved people could remain in their employ?
 
“Jiminy whiz! This is my very last week of boy; next week I’ll have to be a man,” he said gloomily.
 
He was soon at the “ of ample size” made the week before, not of “strong logs” but of old fence-rails and . He wondered if the girls would be able to imagine it a “lodge,” or if May Nell and Jean, who were to come a little later, could fix it according to the poem.
 
He to go first on the mountain and set his traps for rabbits; also to mark the bounds for the “chase,” so that they could gather on time at the island and go on with the second . If they didn’t “do” two cantos a day they wouldn’t finish; for Friday must be given to school. As it was some of them had to be at the school house each day at three to rehearse for the “last day” exercises.
 
Billy hid his wheel in the same of rose vine, now all pink and with bloom, that had sheltered it that earlier Spring afternoon,—was it years ago? It seemed so. As he crept out of the brush and turned to the steep mountain, he saw the haunted house, with the bare space in front. There were the two brothers fighting fiercely!
 
Billy slipped quickly to cover again where he could watch unseen. The men’s faces were black with passion, and their low, intense words seemed all the more deadly because strange, foreign. A coat split down the back with a ripping report, and the boy saw the flash of a knife, and turned away feeling sick.
 
Was there to be another murder? Ought he to call? If he did wouldn’t they turn on him—kill him? No matter. Some one might be on the road and hear. And he could run pretty fast. Anyway he must risk it.
 
“Murder! Murder!” he shouted with all his strength; and his boy’s voice reached far up and down the lonely distances.
 
He saw the men stop, draw apart, and look around. They discovered no one, but delayed their quarrel and hurried in the direction of the sound, exchanging short angry speeches as they ran.
 
With a boy’s cunning and swiftness Billy made a running creep through the underbrush up the steep mountain side. From a peephole higher up he stopped, breathless, and watched them beat the chaparral round about where he had stood; saw them go down into the road, look each way, turn and scan the mountain; and at last slink off, one to the house, the other to the vineyard.
 
Relieved, yet with his nerves quivering Billy into the deep woods of the higher altitudes. The air was unusually hot and , and his eyes watered. “Fire in the woods somewhere,” he murmured, recognizing the odor of smoke.
 
He had left his ............