Lennie suddenly smiled whimsically, and Jack knew he was let into the boy's heart. Queer! Up till now they had all kept a door shut against him. Now Len had opened the door. Jack saw the winsomeness and pathos of the boy vividly, and loved him, too. But it was still remote. And still mixed up in it was the long stare of that Monica.
"That's right, you tell 'im," said Tom. "What I say here—no back chat, an' no tales told. That's what's the motto on this station."
"Obey an' please my Lord Tom Noddy,"
"So God shall love and angels aid ye——" said Lennie, standing tip-toe on his log and balancing his bare feet, and repeating his rhyme with an abstract impudence, as if the fiends of air could hear him.
"Aw, shut up, you!" said Tom. "You've got ter get them 'osses down to Red's. Take Jack an' show him."
"I'll show him," said Len, munching a large piece of pie as he set off.
"Ken ye ride, Jack?"
Jack didn't answer, because his riding didn't amount to much.
III
Len unhitched four heavy horses, led them into the yard, and put the ropes into Jack's hands. The child marched so confidently under the noses of the great creatures, as they planted their shaggy feet. And he was such a midget, and with his brown bare arms and bare legs and feet, and his vivid face, he looked so "tender." Jack's heart moved with tenderness.