"
Before, the breakfast had continued to seem an important incident
temporarily suspended. Now Peaceful Hart laid hand to his beard,
eyed his wife questioningly, let his glance flicker over the
faces of his sons, and straightened his shoulders unconsciously.
Good Indian was at the door, his mouth set in a thin, straight,
fighting line. Wally and Jack were sliding their chairs back
from the table preparing to follow him.
"I guess it ain't anything much," Peaceful opined optimistically.
"They can't do anything but steal berries, and they're most gone,
anyhow. Go ask him what he wants, down there." The last
sentence was but feeble sort of fiction that his boys would await
his commands; as a matter of fact, they were outside before he
spoke.
"Take the dogs along," called out Baumberger, quite as futilely,
for not one of the boys was within hearing.
Until they heard footsteps returning at a run, the four stayed
where they were. Baumberger rumbled on in a desultory sort of
way, which might have caused an observant person to wonder where
was his lawyer training, and the deep cunning and skill with
which he was credited, for his words were as profitless and
inconsequential as an old woman's.
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