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Au revoir, Nancy." "Poor Bobby!" Nancy folded her hands and sighed mournfully. "It appears to me that his love affair is not going to run very smooth. But isn't she just beautiful, Charlie? What color, what style!" "She's a stunner, I'm forced to admit. Bob'll never stand a ghost of a show against that Russian. He's a great social catch, and is backed by many kopecks."
"Reck'n he's good enough if there's none better," David replied dispassionately. "And wha should there be better? Tell me that, ye muckle gowk." David smiled. "Eh, but that'd be long tellin', he said. "And what wad ye mean by that?" his father cried. "Nay; I was but thinkin' that Mr. Moore's Bob'll look gradely writ under yon." He pointed to the vacant space below Red Wull's name.
"Soon's we can get enuf money," he said, "Bob'll buy me a broom, then I'll 'elp." "Wouldn't you like to help now?" she asked. "Yes," he replied, "but brooms cost a lot o' money." "So they do," said the woman. "Besides, you're not big enough yet, but you could sell some matches, couldn't you?
"An' Bob'll be home for the New Year an' we'll all be havin' a fine time together before you an' Bob goes away again." "In th' mornin' I'll have t' be goin' t' th' Post wi' th' dogs an' komatik t' get some things. Is there anything yer wantin', Mary?" he asked his wife. "We has plenty o' flour an' molasses an' tea; but," she suggested, "th' next day's Christmas, Richard."
She was about to follow him when she saw him wheel swiftly, his pistol at a poise as his gaze fell upon something outside the ranchhouse. And then she saw him smile. "It's Bob," he said; "with a rifle." And he helped the boy, white of face and trembling, though with the light of stern resolution in his eyes, into the kitchen. "Bob'll watch you," he said; "so's nothin' will happen to you.
"Oor Bob'll fetch him!" they roared, their blood leaping to fever heat, and gripped their sticks, determined in stern reality to follow now. The gray champion trotted up on to the bridge, and paused again, the long hair about his neck rising like a ruff, and a strange glint in his eyes; and the holder of the bridge never moved.
"Ye-ah," drawled old Doc Smithers, precipitating a large mouthful of brown liquid into the fireplace. "Bob, he'll pet 'im, an' that ol' bulldog o' his'n 'ull lick im, an' next thing we know Bob'll be givin' 'im a claim, just like he took in Handsome Harry hisself goin' on two years ago. Look at the dandy, struttin'! Bob buys 'im all them fancy togs an' loves to see 'im wearin' 'em.
'While you're about it, Farnie, old man, he said carelessly, 'you might let me have a bob or two if you don't mind. Five bob'll see me through to Saturday all right. 'Do you mean tomorrow? enquired Farnie, looking up from his heap of gold. 'No, Saturday week. Let you have it back by then at the latest. Make a point of it. 'How would a quid do? 'Ripping, said Danvers ecstatically.
'Yes, missie dear, I've much to be thankful for, and I hope and trust poor Bob'll take to steady ways like his father and grandfather before him, though there's times I worry about him a bit he's a loving boy, but he's got the gipsy restlessness in him too. Nance's story had taken longer to tell than might seem the case.
"Git on wi' it, ye stammerin' stirk!" cried M'Adam. "Why?" "Becos Owd Bob'll not rin." Tammas sat back in his chair. "What!" screamed the little man, thrusting forward. "What's that!" yelled Long Kirby, leaping to his feet. "Mon, say it agin!" shouted Rob. "What's owd addled eggs tellin'?" cried Liz Burton. "Dang his 'ead for him!" shouts Tupper. "Fill his eye!" says Ned Hoppin.
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