Billy's eyes opened wide. "Misjedged him?" he repeated.
"Oh the poor little dear! the poor little dear!" she wailed. "Me hatin' him like I did, and him doin' all he has fer me. Oh, Willium, I do feel so 'shamed, an' mean; I do so!"
Billy stared at his mother in amazement. "Jest what has Anse ever did fer you, Ma?" he asked wonderingly.
"Anse!" she snorted. "Who's talkin' about Anse? It's Croaker I mean. Look here what that darlin' crow brought me jest a few minutes ago."
She opened her hand. In it lay a shining twenty-dollar gold piece. Billy's mouth fell open in astonishment.
"Croaker brought you that?" he gasped. "Well, I'll be shot!" Billy stood up and gazed about him. "Where's Croaker now?" he asked.
"I dunno. He jest laughed an' sailed away ag'in. I don't know where he got it but I do know good gold when I see it, Willium. Twenty dollars! Ain't it splendid?"
"It sure is, but I can't help wonderin' where Croaker found it. Maybe you wouldn't mind lettin' me off Sunday School today, Ma," he suggested, "so's I kin trail off an' find that Croaker. Any crow that kin pick up gold pieces that way is worth watchin'. Kin I go look fer him, Ma?"
Mrs. Wilson, at this particular moment, was in the mood to grant almost any request. "Why Willium," she said eagerly, "go seek him and bring him back home. Never ag'in will I wish him dead, poor little feller. But," she added as though realizing that her softened mood had carried her a little too far, "you see you get back here in time for supper er I'm liable to tan you good."
Billy waited for no more. He was up and away like a shot. Mrs. Wilson, clutching her gold piece in one hand and brushing back her deranged hair with the other, went back into the house.