That squaw--the one that caught
Huckleberry the other day, you know--would hardly let go of the
bridle. I was scared to DEATH, only I wouldn't let her see. I
believe now she's in with old Hagar, Grant. She kept asking me
where you were, and looked so--"
"I think, on the whole, we'd better wait till after supper when
it's cooler, Goldenhair," Good Indian observed, when she
hesitated over something she had not quite decided to say. "I
suppose I really ought to stay and help the boys with that clover
patch that Mother Hart is worrying so about. I guess she thinks
we're a lazy bunch, all right, when the old man's gone. We'll go
up this evening, if you like."
Evadna eyed him with open suspicion, but if she could read his
real meaning from anything in his face or his eyes or his manner,
she must have been a very keen observer indeed.
Good Indian was meditating what he called "making a sneak." He
wanted to have a talk with Miss Georgie himself, and he certainly
did not want Evadna, of all people, to hear what he had to say.
Pages:
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392