“But there’s one thing to be thought of first,” I said, with a grin. “Has my uncle Deck stopped threatening to kill me on sight?”
That stirred their memories and fetched a laugh.
“He wouldn’t dare to give you as much as one yip if you walked up to him looking like you do now,” said Dave.
The thought which he suggested was comforting; so much in this world does depend on outside appearances. The hankering in me to go back was whetted; just to make a show in the face and eyes of Levant, to stop their tongues for good and all! But I was conscious that deep under those cheaper motives was something more compelling. I had felt the thrust of it after Ardon Sortwell had told me of his confession to Celene. She, at least, knew that I had not been a renegade, and she had taken enough interest in me to make sure on that point.
“When are you coming back, Ross?” demanded Dave.
“Don’t tell anybody I am coming back, boys. Promise me that.”
They did.
“But you may say that you saw me in the city, and that I am doing well, and sent my best regards to all my friends.”
“We’ll make their cussed old ears sing,” declared Ardon. “Don’t you worry about us!”
“If I can arrange my business so as to leave it, I may run up later.”