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I noticed that my friend Quiller, who is a war correspondent, or, I should say, a war editorial writer, took three cocktails and talked all the more brilliantly for it through the opening courses of the dinner, about the story of the smashing of the Hindenburg line. He decided, after his second Burgundy, that it had been simply a case of sticking it out.
Ump came along after the last of the cattle and burst into a great laugh. "Damme," he said, "you're as purty a pair of muskrats as ever chawed a root. Why don't you put up the bars instead of settin' gawkin' at the cattle! They're all there." "Suppose they were not all there?" said I. "Quiller," said he, "I'm not goin' back over any burnt bridges.
I think that first turn into the Stone Coal fooled him. But he will know better by midnight." Then I understood it was horse tracks he had been looking for. "How do you know he's trailing us?" I asked. "Quiller," he answered, "when Come-an'-go-fetch-it rides up an' down, he's lookin' for somethin'. An' I reckon we're are about ready to be looked for."
"I reckon you'll almost be equal to beating up an egg yourself if you watch long enough." "Perhaps," said Merefleet. She laughed gaily. "Are you coming along with Bert and me this afternoon in Quiller's boat?" she inquired. "I believed I have engaged Quiller to come and do the hard work for me," Merefleet said. "You!" She was bending over the fire, stirring the beaten egg into a saucepan.
The hunchback rubbed his chin. "Quiller," he said, "don't the Bible tell about a man that met an angel when he was a goin' somewhere?" "Yes," I laughed. "What was that man's name?" said he. "Balaam," said I. "Well," said he, "that man Balaam was the second ass that saw an angel, an' you're the third one."
The hunchback studied the river. "Quiller," he said finally, "if we knowed about that current " I cut him short. "I'll find out about the current," I said. Then I threw away my hat, pitched my coat down on the sod and gathered up my bridle reins. "Wait!" cried the hunchback. Then he turned to Jud. "Wash your face in the tub by the spout yonder, an' bring up your horse. Take Danel with you.
"Ruthie, what gown shall you wear to-night? your dark grey one, I suppose?" asked Miss Benson. "Yes, I suppose so. I never thought of it; but that is my best." "Well; then, I shall quill up a ruff for you. You know I am a famous quiller of net." Ruth came downstairs with a little flush on her cheeks when she was ready to go.
The coat had brass buttons, a plenteous pitting of moth-holes, and a braided collar. Jud went on without noticing the interruption. "The letter that Twiggs brought was a-layin' on the mantelpiece, tore open. Quiller could a looked just as easy as not, an' a found out just what it said, but he edged off."
We rode back to the shop and down the hill after the cattle, Ump drumming on the pommel with his fingers and firing a cackle of fantastic monologue. "Quiller," he said, "do you think Miss Cynthia will be glad to see the drove comin' down the road?" "Happy as a June bug," said I.
She nodded to him gaily as she met his eyes. "Come right in!" she said hospitably. "And I shall tell Grandpa Quiller who you are." "Aye, but I know," broke in the old man eagerly. "Master Bernard, ain't it? That's right, sonny. That's right. Yes, come in! There! I never thought to see you again. That I never did.
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