buzzard hanging in the air, he never heard the call that meant it
was time for us to be home and cleaning up for Sunday. It was
difficult to hurry, for after we had been soaped and scoured, we
had to sit on the back steps and commit to memory verses from the
Bible. At last we waded toward home. Two of the ducks we had
lost swam before us all the way, so we knew they were alive, and
all they needed was finding.

"If she hadn't accused mother of stealing her old ducks, I'd
catch those and carry them back to her," said Leon. "But since
she thinks we are so mean, I'll just let her and little Sammy
find them."

Then we heard their voices as they came down the creek, so Leon
reached me his hand and we scampered across the water and meadow,
never stopping until we sat on the top rail of our back orchard
fence. There we heard another call, but that was only two. We
sat there, rested and looked at the green apples above our heads,
wishing they were ripe, and talking about the ducks. We could
see Mrs. Deam and Sammy coming down the creek, one on each side.
We slid from the fence and ran into a queer hollow that was cut
into the hill between the never-fail and the Baldwin apple trees.

That hollow was overgrown with weeds, and full of trimmings from
trees, stumps, everything that no one wanted any place else in
the orchard. It was the only unkept spot on our land, and I
always wondered why father didn't clean it out and make it look
respectable. I said so to Leon as we crouched there watching
down the hill where Mrs. Deam and Sammy hunted ducks with not
such very grand success. They seemed to have so many they