He said he would tramp to town and come with his gear next morning. John offered to drive him over, but he shook his head. As he started away Ruth came to the kitchen door, and he looked toward her, and she said hesitantly, “Don’t you want to stay to supper?”
He thanked her, shook his head. Evered and John in the barnyard watched him go; and Evered saw Ruth leave the kitchen door and move to a window from which she could see him go up the lane toward the main road.
Evered asked John: “What do you make of him?”
“I like him,” said John. “I’m—glad you let him stay.”
“Know why I let him stay?”
“Why—no.”
“See him and Ruth together? See her watching him?”
“I didn’t notice.”
Evered’s lips twitched in the nearest approach to mirth he ever permitted himself. “Ought to have better eyes, John; if you’re minded to keep hold o’ Ruth. She likes him. If I’d swore at him, shipped him off, she’d have been all on his side from the start.”
John, a little troubled, shook his head. “Ruth’s all right,” he said. “Give her time.”