Jimmie, who is sometimes allowed to take his supper with us, sat gazing at his father, fascinated by the narrative until the last word. Then seemingly jealous that any one, even this strange father, should exceed me in prowess, his little face clouded and he demanded:
"Uncle Ranny, didn't you ever spear a big fish?"
"No, Jimmie," I laughed, "but maybe you and I will go there one day and spear some together."
"Well, anyway," he retorted stoutly, "you took us on a picnic."
Whereat we all laughed, albeit my own laugh was rueful. The thought flashed through my mind that Pendleton was certain to win them to himself the moment he decided to do so. The very memory of me would become ridiculous to them.
"Uncle Ranny," spoke up Laura, "has been too busy feeding us and buying us clothes to go traveling."
Alicia smiled radiantly at Laura across the table, and Griselda, who had just come in with the dessert, nodded her head with somber emphasis as she placed the bowl before me.
I could have hugged them all three in gratitude, but nevertheless I pressed Pendleton to narrate more of his experiences.
"No," he shook his head, evidently taking the children's comment to heart. "That's yarn enough for one evening."
That seemed to me very decent of Pendleton.