"What?" demanded Marjory. "Just Billy?"
"Billy Blue-eyes."
"My!" teased Marjory. "Just like a paper doll!"
"Never mind," soothed tactful Jean, "I think Billy's a beautiful name."
"For a goat," scoffed Henrietta.
There's no knowing what would have happened if Mr. Black, gently shooing a strange object before him, had not appeared just then, from the woods back of the clearing.
"Hi there, girls," he shouted, "I'm bringing you a pet!"
At that the girls, all differences forgotten, raced toward Mr. Black.
"Stop! Stop!" he shouted. "You'll scare him away. Stand where you are. That's right. Now, Marjory, you run for the clothesline—we'll try to get a noose about his neck."