"Thanks," said Frederick, taking a chair. "Mind if I smoke?"
The man thus addressed made no answer. He read a verse or two partly aloud as if to himself, then closed the book and laid it on the table.
"What's the matter between you and Madelene?" he inquired presently, fixing Frederick with a steady gaze.
"Nothing.... Nothing, that I'm to blame for. Madelene followed me to the lake and found me in Skinner's shack. That's all the row was about."
"Why were you there?" Waldstricker did not change his tone.
Frederick threw his cigarette into the smoldering grate and shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
"Can't a fellow stop in a shanty without the whole town gossiping about it?" he demanded peevishly.
"That's just it, Frederick. I don't want people talking about my sister's husband and a squatter girl," the older man explained. "I must know why you were there."
"Look at here, Eb," exclaimed the boy, "why don't you let Madelene and me fight out our own quarrels? I don't interfere with you and Helen."
"Huh! I should hope not!" growled Waldstricker. "But quarrels are not what we're talking about.... Why were you in the Skinner hut?... Are you in love with that girl?"