"After you attacked the old man and him in the woods, one day. Yes,
he's the one. He told me."

"You an' him pals?"

"Not exactly; he's much younger than I."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen next month."

"Old enough ter know better, eh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Better than ter go diggin' fer---well, gold, in these 'ere parts."

A blush overspread Ralph's freckled face, but it faded as quickly as
it had come, and he continued to stare at Bill Terrill.

"I wasn't digging for gold," he said quietly.

"Of course not! I was only joshing you, boy! Say, what I wanted ter
see you about is this: there's some dispute between the
what-d'-you-call-uns?---executors?---of your dad's will and Old Man
Perkins, who owns the farm next ter yours, about the boundary lines.
Old Man Perkins, he claims-----"

"He has no claim whatever!" interrupted Ralph, vehemently. "That old
dispute was almost settled before my father's death. Dad had our