Then through the haze of uncertainty two wide blue eyes seemed to meet his own; eyes that smiled to him confidence in his ability to make good; eyes that said as plainly as words: "I knew you could do it."
Billy braced himself. At the same time he caught a glimpse of Anson's leering face and inwardly vowed that that young man should have plenty of reason to regret that leer.
Mr. Keeler was leaning across the back of the long seat, smiling commendingly upon him.
"William Wilson will tell us why Christ walked on the sea of Galilee," he boomed. "Come William, answer up, my boy."
Billy drew in his breath hard. He fully intended that none of those straining ears should miss his answer. Suddenly it had come to him that it was an easy question to answer; there could in fact be but one answer to it.
"Because He didn't have no boat!"
In the deep silence following his answer Billy sat down. Then a murmur of gasps, whispers and giggles grew up, which died suddenly to silence again, as Mr. Keeler's voice rang out.
"Correct! Now, boys, we will get on with our lesson."
During the closing hymn Billy managed to evade the eyes of his elders long enough to slip outside. He wanted to be alone—alone to ponder over this great and wonderful thing that had come into his life. It was love—yes it certainly was love, strong worshipful love such as comes to but few, and to those few only once. Such love had made Trigger Finger Tim leap a fifty-foot chasm, swim a swift, ice-encumbered river and fight single-handed a band of painted savages to free his sweetheart from their murderous clutches. Billy knew that he would do as much for her!
He strayed into the beech grove sighing, striving to realize all that had suddenly happened to him. Never in all his dreams had he imagined such a face could belong to mortal girl. He must see her again—yes, he must see her soon again—perhaps speak with her. The very thought of it made him dizzy.