160

XIII HAL REPEATS HIS VISIT 180

XIV SPINNING YARNS 193

XV TIDINGS 219

XVI A RELUCTANT ALTRUIST 228

XVII AN ORDEAL 237

XVIII THE SOLUTION OF MANY MYSTERIES 250

XIX UNRAVELING THE SNARLS 259

ILLUSTRATIONS

"MR. CARL MCGREGOR," ANNOUNCED HE IN A STENTORIAN
TONE _Frontispiece_

_Page_

"THE COTTON IS SENT TO FACTORIES TO BE GINNED" " 129

"BUT THAT ISN'T OUR BASKET, MOTHER," CARL SAID. "THIS
IS MUCH BIGGER" 155

"I'VE HUNTED FOR YOU AND YOUR RED CAR EVER SINCE" 253

CARL AND THE COTTON GIN

CHAPTER I

THE McGREGORS

"Carl!"

"Coming, Ma!"

Mrs. McGregor waited a moment.

"But you aren't coming," protested she fretfully. "You never seem to
come when you're wanted. Drat the child! Where is he? Carl!"

"Yes, Ma."

"_Yes, Ma!_ _Yes, Ma!_" the woman mimicked impatiently. "It's easy
enough to shout _Yes, Ma_; but where are you--that's what I want to
know. You're the slowest creature on God's earth, I believe. A tortoise
would be a race horse compared with you. What under the sun are you
doing?"

The boy entered, a good-humored grin on his face.

He was thin, lanky, and blue-eyed, and a rebellious lock of tawny hair
that curled despite all he could do waved back from his forehead. He
might have been fourteen years old or he might have been seventeen; it
was hard to tell whether he was an overgrown younger boy or an
under-sized older one. Whatever his age, however, he could certainly
boast a serene disposition, for his mother's caustic comments failed to
ruffle his temper. Having heard them ever since babyhood he was quite
accustomed to their acid tang; moreover, he had learned to gage them
for what they were worth and class them along with the froth on a soda
or the sputter of a freshly lighted match. The thing underneath was
what mattered and he knew well that beneath the torrent of words his
mother was the best mother on earth, so what more could a boy ask?

Therefore he stood before her, whist