dark problem. "Only Billy Goatry knows him. The fellow that led the
singing--that was Goatry."

"There he is now," he added, as Billy Goat passed the window.

She came and laid a hand on his arm. "We've got to settle things with
him," she said. "If Dorl comes, Nett--"

There was silence for a moment, then he caught her hand in his and held
it. "If he comes, leave him to me, Jo. You will leave him to me?" he
added anxiously.

"Yes," she answered. "You'll do what's right-by Bobby?"

"And by Dorl, too," he replied strangely. There were loud footsteps
without.

"It's Goatry," said Foyle. "You stay here. I'll tell him everything.
He's all right; he's a true friend. He'll not interfere."

The handle of the door turned slowly. "You keep watch on the post-
office, Jo," he added.

Goatry came round the opening door with a grin. "Hope I don't intrude,"
he said, stealing a half-leering look at the girl. As soon as he saw her
face, however, he straightened himself up and took on different manners.
He had not been so intoxicated as he had made, out, and he seemed only
"mellow" as he stood before them, with his corrugated face and queer,
quaint look, the eye with the cast in it blinking faster than the.
other.