“Them little shavers thought a sight of their mom,” pursued M’Graw.
“I gathered as much from what Frank told me,” Mr. Howbridge said seriously.
“By the way, Mr. Howbridge,” said M’Graw in a different tone, “where are the little shavers?”
“You mean the twins, of course? Ralph and Rowena?”
“Yes, sir.”
The guardian of the Birdsall twins rather hesitatingly told the old man just why he had not brought Ralph and Rowena to Red Deer Lodge at this time.
“Ran away? Now listen to that!” murmured the old man. “That don’t sound right. Wasn’t they with folks able to take keer of ’em?”
“I thought they were,” said Mr. Howbridge. “Rodgers, the butler, and his wife.”
“Whoof!” exclaimed the backwoodsman, expelling his breath in a great snort of disgust. “That butler! Wal, what for a man wants to buttle for, I don’t know. I never could make it out that it was a real man’s job, anyway. And that Rodgers was one useless critter. I don’t blame them little shavers for runnin’ away from Rodgers an’ that sour-apple wife of his. I know ’em both.”
“If that is the case,” said the lawyer sadly, “I wish I had known them as well as you appear to. Then I should have made other provision for the twins right at the start.”