“What did you say?” asked the boy quickly.
“Nothing,” said Mr. Hamlin.
But it had sounded to Leonidas like an oath.
Mr. Hamlin walked a few steps, as if stretching his limbs, and then said: “And you think Burroughs would have been bitten?”
“Why, no!” said Leonidas in astonished indignation; “of course not—not BURROUGHS. It would have been poor MRS. Burroughs. For, of course, HE set that trap for her—don't you see? Who else would do it?”
“Of course, of course! Certainly,” said Mr. Hamlin coolly. “Of course, as you say, HE set the trap—yes—you just hang on to that idea.”
But something in Mr. Hamlin's manner, and a peculiar look in his eye, did not satisfy Leonidas. “Are you going to see her now?” he said eagerly. “I can show you the house, and then run in and tell her you're outside in the laurels.”
“Not just yet,” said Mr. Hamlin, laying his hand on the boy's head after having restored his own hat. “You see, I thought of giving her a surprise. A big surprise!” he added slowly. After a pause, he went on: “Did you tell her what you had seen?”
“Of course I did,” said Leonidas reproachfully. “Did you think I was going to let her get bit? It might have killed her.”
“And it might not have been an unmixed pleasure for William Henry. I mean,” said Mr. Hamlin gravely, correcting himself, “YOU would never have forgiven him. But what did she say?”