place to see that the
writ is properly executed. There's no help for it, so I think you had
better get ready, and we will go as soon as possible." And he handed
to Bachelor Billy a copy of the writ.

"I ha' no time to read it," said Billy, "but if the judge says as the
lad s'ould gae to court again, he s'all gae. We mus' obey the law. An'
I s'all gae wi' 'im. Whaur the lad gae's I s'all gae. I s'all stay by
'im nicht an' day. If the law says he mus' live wi' Seemon Craft, then
I s'all live wi' Seemon Craft also. I ha' nursit 'im too long, an'
lovit 'im too weel to turn 'im alone into the wolfs den noo."

In a minute or two Craft recovered, but the coughing had left him very
weak. He rose unsteadily to his feet and looked around for his cane.
He had grown calm. He thought that the game was his at any rate, and
that it was of no use for him to lose strength over it. "You'll walk
faster than I," he said, "so I'll be going. If I miss this train I
can't get started to Philadelphia with the boy before to-morrow." He
tottered out into the road, picked up his cane, and trudged on down
the hill toward the city.

It was not long before the two men and the boy were ready to go also.

"Keep up your courage, my son," said the sheriff kindly, for the sight
of Ralph's face aroused his sympathy. "Keep up your courage; the court
has got to pass on this matter yet. You don't have to go with the old
man till the judge says so."

"Tak' heart," added Bachelor Billy, "tak' heart, laddie. It's not all
ower wi' us yet. I canna thenk as any law'd put a lamb i' the wolf's
teeth."

"I don't know," said the sheriff, as they stood on the step for a
moment before leaving the house. "I don't know how you'll make it. I
suppose, as far as the law's concerned, the old man's on the right
track. As near as I can make out, the way the law-suit turned, he has
a legal right to the custody of the child and to his earnings. But, if
I was the lad, he'd no sooner get me to Philadelphia than I'd give him
the slip. You've done it once, Ralph, you can do it again, can't you?"

"I don't know," answered the boy, weakly; "I don't believe I'd try. If
I have to go back with him I wouldn't live very long any way, an' it
wouldn't pay to run away again. It don't make much difference; I ain't
got anybody left now but Uncle Billy, an', if he goes with me, I guess
I can stan' it till it's through with."

It was the first time in his life that Ralph had ever spoken i