“H’m!� Mrs. Mallett repeated. “Sweet William, you tell Mr. Black Mayo how this dog acted to-day, and about that night. Some dogs have got a lot of sense, and some are pure fools; they’re just like folks. Well, here’s a place we’ve got to stop,� she said, frowning at the pea-green gabled and turreted house that was the outward and visible sign of Gordan Jones’s prosperity.
The door was wide open, and in response to Mrs. Mallett’s knock there was a hearty “Come in!� She and Sweet William walked through the hall and turned into the dining room where Mr. and Mrs. Jones were sitting at the dinner table.
“O—oh!� Sweet William stared at the table. It was strangely unlike what he was used to at home these days. Why, it was loaded with food, vegetables swimming in sauces and gravies, two or three kinds of meat, hot biscuits, cakes, and pies. “O-o-oh!� he said again.
“Howdy, folks!� called Mr. Jones, a stout man in shirt sleeves. “Come in, come in, you-all, and set down to dinner.�
“Howdy, Mrs. Mallett,� said Mrs. Jones, getting up to greet the guests. “And howdy, little man. It’s Mr. Red Mayo’s little boy, ain’t it?�
“Yes; it’s William, Sweet William Osborne,� said Mrs. Mallett, stiffly. “I just come to bring you the wool you said——�
“Here, here!� interrupted Mr. Jones’s big voice. “Eat first and then do your talking. We’ve got plenty victuals for you.� He laughed and surveyed the table with pride. “Come and eat with us, Mrs. Mallett. Come on, little boy, and set right here by me.�
“Oh, the little French and Belgians!� exclaimed Sweet William, whose eyes had never moved from the table.
“No, thank you, Mr. Jones,� said Mrs. Mallett, drawing her lips into a tight line. “Now, Mrs. Jones, this wool——�
“Aw, come along and set and eat,� urged Mr. Jones, hospitably. “I want you to sample this old home-cured ham; and that’s prime good bacon with the greens.�