“Oh, don’t suggest such a thing,” begged Agnes. “And this cold air gives one such an appetite!”
“Don’t mention a shortage of food,” put in Neale, chuckling, “or Aggie will be getting up in the night and coming down to rob the pantry.”
There might have been a squabble right then and there had not Hedden appeared, and, in his grave way, announced:
“Mr. M’Graw has arrived, sir. Shall I bring him in here?”
“Ah!” exclaimed the lawyer, waking up from a brown study. “Ike M’Graw? I understood from Birdsall that he is a character. Has he had supper, Hedden?”
“Yes, sir. I knew that you would wish him served. He has been eating in the servants’ dining-room, sir.”
“Send him in,” the lawyer said. “Now, young folks, here is the man who can tell us more about Red Deer Lodge and the country hereabout, and all that goes on in it, than anybody else. Here—”
The door opened again. Hedden announced gravely:
“Mr. Ike M’Graw, sir.”
There strode over the threshold one of the tallest men the young people, at least, had ever seen. And he was so lean that his height seemed more than it really was.