In the centre of this group, standing with a satisfied smile on his face, his general appearance considerably the worse for wear, but in demeanor, to quote M'rye's subsequent phrase, “as cool as Cuffy,” was Ni Hagadorn.
[CHAPTER XIV
FINIS]
“He's all right; you can look for him here right along now, any day; he was hurt a leetle, but he's as peart an' chipper now as a blue-jay on a hick'ry limb; yes, he's a-comin' right smack home!”
This was the gist of the assurances which Ni vouchsafed to the first rush of eager questions—to his sister, and M'rye, and Janey Wilcox.
Abner had held a little aloof, to give the weaker sex a chance. Now he reasserted himself once more: “Stan' back, now, and give the young man breathin' room. Janey, hand a chair for'ard—that's it. Now set ye down, Ni, an' take your own time, an' tell us all about it. So you reely found him, eh?”
“Pshaw! there ain't anything to that,” expostulated Ni, seating himself with nonchalance, and tilting back his chair. “That was easy as rollin' off a log. But what's the matter here? That's what knocks me. We—that is to say, I—come up on a freight train to a ways beyond Juno Junction, an' got the conductor to slow up and let me drop off, an' footed it over the hill. It was jest about broad daylight when I turned the divide. Then I began lookin' for your house, an' I'm lookin' for it still. There's a hole out there, full o' snow an' smoke, but nary a house. How'd it happen?”
“'Lection bonfire—high wind—woodshed must 'a' caught,” replied Abner, sententiously. “So you reely got down South, eh?”