“Too late, young man,” cried Phœbe before he could state his errand. “Anyone could see by the rush you made down that hill and by the glitter in your eye that you are tryin’ to overtake a woman. Jerry is gone. The other man has her, and my tip is that you had better bring matters to a point quickly—or you’ll lose nest and feathers too.”
His rapid-fire questions exhibited Phœbe in the light of a perfect mind-reader. But she had no help for him. They had gone off in Wheelen’s canoe; there was no telling when they would be back.
“I’ll wait,” said Richard firmly, and sat down upon one of her comfortable porch chairs.
“I’m thinkin’ of putting up a sign,” remarked Phœbe. Richard gazed down the Lake and made no answer. “Only I’m not sure whether to make it ‘Beware the dog,’ or ‘Trespassing forbidden.’... Perhaps I’ll make it ‘Huntin’ not allowed on this land’—meanin’ by that, ‘girl huntin’’—or mebbe I’ll just have it read, ‘The Norris Inn; Meals Furnished Free.’”
“Eh?” he came out of his fixed stare. “Did you say something about eating? I’m really quite hungry.”
“Of course you would be!” she said. “Feed a stray dog an’ he’ll always come back. It was a mistake ever to give you two anything. Your friend Jawn was here for two-o’clock tea. What’ll you have, sir?” She flung a bit of sewing over her left arm and impersonated an ingratiating waiter. “We recommend our toasted muffins and tea.”
“Great!” he agreed politely. “I’d be delighted.”
But anyone could see that his mind was not on food. Down the Lake he squinted with wrinkling brows as if he were trying to read the name on a far-distant steamer.
“As a rule canoes don’t travel in the middle of the Lake,” said Phœbe.
“Eh?” he looked up absently.