There was excuse enough for their having tarried when they reached home at dusk to find their simple little supper of mush and molasses ready for them. Cassy could talk of nothing but the garden, and all night long she dreamed of nodding flowers and green trees.
In the morning her first thought was of the two green shoots under the old chair in the back yard. Perhaps the plant needed water; she would go down and see before any one was up. Carefully carrying a cupful of water she went down the rickety steps which led to the back yard.
The little green shoots had stretched further up out of the dry earth, to the child’s delight. Lifting the chair with a cautious look around she poured the water upon the earth and watched it sink into the ground. She crouched there for some time as if she would discover the plant’s manner of growing.
At last she arose with a sigh. Such a poor little garden compared to the one she had seen yesterday, but what possibilities did it not hold? This tiny plant might yet show gorgeous blooms of red and yellow, or send forth big bunches of pink. Her thoughts went rioting along when they were interrupted by a hoarse laugh, and looking up startled, she saw the grinning face of Billy Miles peering over the fence.
“I caught ye,” he jeered. “I seen ye. What yer got buried there?”
“Nothing,” returned Cassy stoutly.
“Yer another,” retorted Billy, clambering over the fence. “What yer got in that cup?”
Cassy turned the cup upside down, but Billy was not satisfied. He came threateningly towards her, taking no heed of where he was stepping.
“Oh, take care,” cried Cassy, forgetting caution in her alarm lest his heavy tread should crush her precious plant.
Billy looked down.