Most of the guests were the Judge's friends, with a small scattering of youngsters, and it appeared that just as the Judge had lined up some sweet-faced old ladies to kiss Billie, Billie had been found missing.

Later he was located, clad only in overalls, leading the whole string of other children to a ruined sawmill that stood on a winding stream below the house.
So to-night the spirit of adversity whirled him about from the driveway, and he sped down the long lane with Kit in fast pursuit.

Overhead the mulberry trees met in a leafy arcade, and out of the hazel thicket a whippoorwill called, flying low down the lane after the two darting forms, as if it were trying to find out what the excitement was about at that time of night.

At the turn of the lane there were three apple trees, early Shepherd Sweetings, and here Billie slipped down and lay breathing heavily, his hands hunting for windfalls in the tall grass.

Kit passed him by, speeding the full length of the lane, and bringing up at the end of the log-run, before the old mill.
"Billie Ellis, you come out of there," she called.