Forbes’ groping memory recalled the gossip that had reached him in the Far West. “Dunne went to prison,” he mused, “and the farm was mortgaged to defray the expenses of the trial.” He hastened back to a safer channel.
“Miss M’ri was foolish to spoil her life and the man’s for fancied duty,” he observed.
“Barnabas couldn’t go to school when he was a boy because he had to work so she and the other children could go. She’d ought to have stood by him.”
“I see you have a sense of duty, too. This county was always strong on duty. I suppose they’ve got it in for me because I ran away?”
“Mr. Brumble says it was a wise thing for you to do. Uncle Larimy says you were a brick of a boy. Miss Rhody says she had no worry about her woodpile getting low when you were here.”
“Poor Miss Rhody! Does she still live alone? And Uncle Larimy––is he uncle to the whole community? What fishing days I had with him! I must look him up and tell him all my adventures. I have planned a round of calls for to-night––Miss M’ri, Miss Rhody, Uncle Larimy––”
“Tell me about your adventures,” demanded David breathlessly.
He listened to a wondrous tale of western life, and never did narrator get into so close relation with his auditor as did this young ranchman with David Dunne. 27
“I must go home,” said the boy reluctantly when Joe had concluded.