[Then came a tree burdened with a small 'coon which stared at the boy piteously, its eyes green in the light]

[Ricky held aloft a great war sword. There could be no doubt in any of them—the Luck of Lorne had returned]

RALESTONE LUCK

How hold ye Lorne?

By the oak leaf,
By the sea wave,
By the broadsword blade,
Thus hold we Lorne!

The oak leaf is dust,
The sea wave is gone,
The broadsword is rust,
How now hold ye Lorne?

By our Luck, thus hold we Lorne!