Here and there the white belly of a fish
lay upturned to the sun, for the cruel, deadly work of
civilization had already begun. Farther up the creek was a buzzing
monster that, creaking and snorting, sent a flashing disk, rimmed
with sharp teeth, biting a savage way through a log, that screamed
with pain as the brutal thing tore through its vitals, and gave up
its life each time with a ghost-like cry of agony. Farther on
little houses were being built of fresh boards, and farther on the
water of the creek got blacker still. June suddenly clutched Bud's
arms. Two demons had appeared on a pile of fresh dirt above them--
sooty, begrimed, with black faces and black hands, and in the cap
of each was a smoking little lamp.
"Huh," said Bub, "that ain't nothin'! Hello, Bill," he called
bravely.
"Hello, Bub," answered one of the two demons, and both stared at
the lovely little apparition who was staring with such naive
horror at them. It was all very wonderful, though, and it was all
happening in Lonesome Cove, but Jack Hale was doing it all and,
therefore, it was all right, thought June--no matter what Dave
said.
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