Jan eyed both of them with distrust "I figger we're goin' to have a spell of fine weather now," remarked Willie with jaunty artificiality. The offhand assertion was too casual to be real. Cloud and fog were not dealt with in this cursory fashion in Wilton. It clinched Jan's doubts into certainty. Something was being kept from him, something of which this stranger, who had only been in the town a few hours, was cognizant. For the first time in fifty years another had usurped his place as Willie's confidant. It was monstrous! A tremor of jealous rage thrilled through his frame, and he stiffened visibly. "I reckon I'll be joggin' along home," said he, moving with dignity toward the door. "But you've only just come, Jan," protested Willie. "I didn't come fur nothin' but to leave this hammer," Jan answered, placing the implement on the long bench before which his friend was standing. "Maybe there was something you wanted to see Mr. Spence about," ventured Bob. "If there was I will—" "No, there warn't," snapped Janoah. "Mister Spence ain't got nothin' confidential to say to me—whatever he may have to say to other folks," and with this parting thrust he shot out of the door. Bob gave a low whistle. "What's the matter with the man?" he asked in amazement. Willie flushed apologetically. "Nothin'—nothin' in the world!" he answered. "Jan gets like that sometimes. Don't you remember I told you he was kinder quick. It's just possible it may have bothered him to see me talkin' to you. Don't mind him." "Do you think he suspected anything?" "Mercy, no! Not he!" responded Willie comfortably. "He's liable to fly off the handle like that a score of times a day. Don't you worry 'bout him. He'll be back before the mornin's over." Nevertheless, sanguine as this prediction was, the hours wore on, and Janoah Eldridge failed to make his appearance. In the meantime Bob and Willie became so deeply engrossed in their new undertaking that they were oblivious to his absence. They worked feverishly until noon, devoured a
Prev.
Back
Top