half the ducks.

"You younguns pack right out of here," she said. "Me and Sammy can get
them better ourselves, and if we don't find all of them, we'll know
where they are."

"We haven't got any of your ducks," I said angrily, but Leon smiled his
most angelic smile, and it seemed as if he were going to cry.

"Of course, if you want to accuse mother of stealing your ducks, you
can," he said plaintively, "but I should think you'd be ashamed to do
it, after all the trouble we took to catch them before they swam to the
river, where you never would have found one of them. Come on, Little
Sister, let's go home."

He started and I followed. As soon as we got around the bend we sat on
the bank, hung our feet in the water, leaned against each other and
laughed. We just laughed ourselves almost sick. When Amanda's face
got fire red, and her hair came down, and she jumped and didn't go
quite over, she looked a perfect fright.

"Will she ever find all of them?" I asked at last.

"Of course," said Leon. "She will comb the grass and strain the water
until she gets every one."

"Hoo-hoo!"

I looked at Leon. He was so intently watching an old turkey 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, everythi