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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Are you perfectly sure there is nothing I need do for you in that connection?" "Oh, perfectly," said Linda lightly. "I didn't mean to alarm you. He merely carried that bug-catcher nonsense a trifle too far. I wouldn't have minded humoring him and fooling about it a little. But, Peter, do you know him quite well? Are you very sure of him?" "No," said Peter, "I don't know him well at all.
"Miss Linda, if you see any suitable spot, and you think I would serve for a bug-catcher, won't you please stake the location?" "Well, I don't know about that," said Linda. "Would it be the old case of 'I furnish the bread and you furnish the water'?" "No," said Peter Morrison, "it would not. Henry is doing mighty well. I guarantee that he would furnish a cow that would produce real cream."
"You let that kid fight his own battles," said Henry Anderson roughly. "He's no proper bug-catcher. I feel it in my bones." For the first time, Linda's joy laugh rang over Peter Morrison's possession. "I don't know about that," she said gaily. "He's a wide-awake specimen; he has led his class for four years when the Jap didn't get ahead of him.
Her eyes were wet as she looked up at Katy. "That first night Henry Anderson and Peter Morrison were here to dinner, Katy," she said, "Anderson made a joke about being my bug-catcher when I built my home nest, and several times since he has tried to be silly about it, but the last time I told him it was foolishness to which I would listen no more, so instead of talking, he has taken this way of telling me that he is fairly expert as a bug-catcher.
As designed, it included every feminine convenience anyway. But when I build my house I am going to build it for myself." "Then don't talk any more about being my bug-catcher," said Linda promptly, "because when I build my house it's going to be a nest that will hold six at the very least. My heart is perfectly set on a brood of six."
"Well, she has no advantage over me," said Henry instantly, "because I have known you quite as long as Peter Morrison has at least, and I'm your official bug-catcher." "I had almost forgotten about the bugs," said Linda. "Well, don't for a minute think I am going to give you an opportunity to forget," said Henry Anderson. He reached across and laid his hand over Linda's on the steering gear.
"I like to see an officer flare up and say things," said a veteran sergeant. "This here bug-catcher is too damned cold-blooded." They respected him, yes; yet they little understood and less loved him. They had known him too short a time. But among the Indians Blakely was a demi-god. Grave, unruffled, scrupulously exact in word and deed, he made them trust him.
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