“He will.”
“You, you’re going to fetch him one?” The instinct of the savage rose in the girl.
“If necessary, yes!” Northrup shared the primitive instinct at that moment. “And now you trot along home, my girl, and don’t open your lips to any one.”
“And you?”
“I’ll wait for Mr. Larry Rivers here!”
“My God!” Jan-an burst forth. Then: “There’s a sizable 174 log back of the stove. Yer can fetch a good one with that.”
“Thanks, Jan-an. Go now.”
Jan-an rose stiffly and shuffled to the door, unlocked it, and went into the blackness outside.
Then Northrup sat down and prepared to wait.
The stove was rusty and cold, but Rivers had evidently had a huge fire on the hearth during the day. Now that he noticed, Northrup saw that there were scraps of burned paper fluttering like wings of evil omens stricken in their flight.