————
The next morning, while Bascomb was sorting over his things with a great deal of unnecessary packing and repacking, David came to him.
“See here, Wallie,” he said brusquely, “you don’t have to dig out at the drop of the hat, you know. I only spoke of your going in a general way. There’s no great hurry—and you’ll miss the fall hunting.”
“It’s time I left,” replied Bascomb, glancing up from his task. “If I stayed here much longer I’d qualify for the booby-hatch sure. I asked Swickey to marry me last night.”
“Swickey? To marry you?”
“Yes, Solomon,—why not? Don’t get fussed up—she isn’t going to.”
“I didn’t imagine you were hit that hard, although—”
“Go ahead, Davy. I’m bomb-proof now.”
“Although I saw you two by the river last night. I didn’t intend to intrude. I came upon you in the dark before—”
“No, Davy, it was just after. I don’t understand her exactly. Perhaps she is a ‘siren child,’ after all.”