Carson turned and came back toward her, and she advanced to meet him.
“Why is everybody going into the woods this afternoon?”
“Is every one?” said Carson.
“Yes, I think it must be that there’s going to be a fight. Isn’t that it, Harry?”
“What put such an idea as that into your head?”
“I just feel it, and I know it from the way you ask that question. I think a fight is perfectly horrid. Won’t you stop it?”
“Sometimes when there’s bad blood between two fellows the best thing is to let them fight it out.”
“Who are the fellows?”
“It would hardly be fair for me to tell.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t. But fighting seems such a stupid and senseless way of settling a difference. And it’s just as likely to settle it the wrong way as the right way. I wish you’d stop this fight, Harry.”