"Your name's Scroggie, ain't it?" Billy asked.
"Yep, Jim Scroggie."
"Your Dad's goin' to cut down the Scroggie woods, I hear?"
"Yep, if he can get his price for the timber."
Billy sat looking away. His grey eyes had grown somber. "See here," he said suddenly, "do you know that old man Scroggie left a will?"
"Dad says not," the other boy replied.
"Well, then, he did; an' in that will he left his woods an' money to Mr. Stanhope, my teacher."
"If that's so, Dad has no right to that woods," said Jim.
"But supposin' the will can't be found?" Billy looked the other boy in the face and waited for the answer.
"Why, I can't see that that ought'a make any difference," Scroggie replied. "If you folks down here know that Uncle left his money and place to your teacher, that ought'a be enough for Dad."