“There,” said Johnny, when they were seated in the straw again, “now mind you don’t tell.”

But here suddenly Florry’s lips began to quiver, and she gave vent to a small howl of anguish.

“You ain’t bit by a trant’ler nor nuthin’?” said Johnny anxiously.  “Hush up!”

“N—­o—­o!  But”—­

“But what?” said Johnny.

“Mar said I must tell!  Mar said I was to fin’ out where you get the truly gold!  Mar said I was to get you to take me,” howled Florry, in an agony of remorse.

Johnny gasped.  “You Injin!” he began.

“But I won’t—­Johnny!” said Florry, clutching his leg frantically.  “I won’t and I sha’n’t!  I ain’t no Injin!”

Then, between her sobs, she told him how her mother and Mr. Staples had said that she was to ask Johnny the next time they met to take her where they found the “truly gold,” and she was to remember where it was and to tell them.  And they were going to give her a new dolly and a hunk of gingerbread.  “But I won’t—­and I sha’n’t!” she said passionately.  She was quite pale again.

Johnny was convinced, but thoughtful.  “Tell ’em,” he said hoarsely, “tell ’em a big whopper!  They won’t know no better.  They’ll never guess where.”  And he briefly recounted the wild-goose chase he had given the minister.

“And get the dolly and the cake,” said Florry, her eyes shining through her tears.

“In course,” said Johnny.  “They’ll get the dolly back, but you kin have eated the cake first.”  They looked at each other, and their eyes danced together over this heaven-sent inspiration.  Then Johnny took off her shoes and stockings, rubbed her cold feet with his dirty handkerchief, and said:  “Now you trot over to your mar!”

He helped her through the loose picket of the fence and was turning away when her faint voice again called him.

“Johnny!”

He turned back; she was standing on the other side of the fence holding out her arms to him.  He went to her with shining eyes, lifted her up, and from her hot but loving little lips took a fatal kiss.

For only an hour later Mrs. Fraser found Florry in her bed, tossing with a high fever and a light head.  She was talking of “Johnny” and “gold,” and had a flake of the metal in her tiny fist.  When Mr. Staples was sent for, and with the mother and father, hung anxiously above her bed, to their eager questioning they could only find out that Florry had been to a high mountain, ever so far away, and on the top of it there was gold lying around, and a shining figure was giving it away to the people.

“And who were the people, Florry dear,” said Mr. Staples persuasively; “anybody ye know here?”

“They woz angels,” said Florry, with a frightened glance over her shoulder.

I grieve to say that Mr. Staples did not look as pleased at the celestial vision as he might have, and poor Mrs. Fraser probably saw that in her child’s face which drove other things from her mind.  Yet Mr. Staples persisted:—­