"Are you, Chick?"
He made a queer guttural sound in his throat but, his official
interpreter being by this time absorbed in the horses, was unable to
make himself understood.
"It must be awful for a boy not to be able to ask questions!" she went
on, looking down at him, then seeing something in his face that other
people missed, she suddenly drew him to her and gave him a little
motherly squeeze.
The ride home was somewhat leisurely, for the accident, slight as it
was, had sobered the riders, and there was, moreover, a subject under
discussion that called for considerable earnest expostulation on one
side, and much tantalizing evasion on the other.
"It all depends upon you," Donald was saying, as they climbed the last
hill. "Cropsie Decker starts for the coast to-morrow but the steamer
doesn't sail for ten days. Shall I go or stay?"
"But you were so mad about it two weeks ago, you could scarcely wait
to start."
"Lots of things can happen in two weeks. Shall I stay?"
"What do your family think about it?"
"My family? Oh, you mean my sister. She doesn't make a habit of losing
sleep over my affairs. She'd probably say go.
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