Just then there came a growl from within the room. It came from Father.
"What is the commotion? And at such an hour! Billy, what's the excitement?"
"Nothing, Father—only it's such a fine morning and I want a ride."
"Let him go, Mother. He is only keeping me from my hard-earned rest. When one works one needs sleep. Billy will never need it!"
Billy was sharp enough to understand his father's words and, smiling shrewdly to himself, he clutched a paper which reposed in his pocket, but he only called out, "Goodby, Father."
His mother kissed him with the parting words: "Do be careful, Billy, and don't go too far."
"No further than usual, Mother," answered Billy.
And then, afraid that Mother might ask something, he ran off, waving his hand and sighing a deep sigh of relief.
Billy had spent some restless hours during the night, thinking about the story he was to write. As he was only a little boy and couldn't write very well, and as this was his very first story, he was a little bit afraid of the results.
But the determination to surprise Father and Mother had grown within him ever since the idea had come to him yesterday at Bah's home. Father thought Billy couldn't do it! Well, he'd show him! He'd listen while Mrs. Fighting Bull told him things, and hadn't he already learned lots about them?