Uncle William looked at him and then drew up to the table. “Celia’s a dretful good cook,” he said. He helped himself to the stew.
The young man went slowly toward the door. “I guess I’ll go see Marshall—about the well.”
Uncle William looked over his shoulder. “Oh—and—George—?”
“Yes, sir?”
“If you happen to be goin’ by this evening, you know, along after dark, you might stop in. I’ve got suthin’ to tell you—kind of an idee—’bout the well.”
“You might tell me now—before I see Marshall—?” suggested Manning.
Uncle William shook his head. “I can’t tell ye—not yet. It’s suthin’ about the old well—and pipes and things. I’m kind o’ thinkin’ it out—”
“All right. I’ll be in—along after supper.”
“Yes, that’s a good time. I’ll have it thought up—by that time, like enough.” The young man went out and Uncle William continued to chew slowly, his eyes on the red table cloth. Presently he looked up and his eye met Bodet’s—He shook his head.
“I do’ ’no’ what I’ll tell him about that well,” he said.