It'll be
all right with mother."
"One thing I like about fishing down here," chuckled Baumberger,
his fat fingers still resting lightly upon Jack's shoulder, "is
the pleasure of eating my fish at your house. There ain't
another man, woman, or child in all Idaho can fry trout like your
mother. You needn't tell her I said so--but it's a fact, just
the same. She sure is a genius with the frying-pan, my boy."
He turned and called in to Pete, to know if he might have the
sorrel saddled right away. Since Pete looked upon Baumberger
with something of the awed admiration which he would bestow upon
the President, he felt convinced that his horses were to be
congratulated that any one of them found favor in his eyes.
Pete, therefore, came as near to roaring at Saunders as his good
nature and his laziness would permit, and waited in the doorway
until Saunders had, with visible reluctance, laid down his book
and started toward the stable.
"Needn't bother to bring the horse down here, my man," Baumberger
called after him.
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