Harky put Duckfoot down. The pup gave Mun a sober and very critical inspection, then came forward to sniff his shoes.
"Sue's pup!" Mun ejaculated.
Harky looked curiously at his father. He'd never thought much about Mun except that, when it came to running away from trifling farm tasks to engage in worthwhile pursuits, he was a mighty hard man to fool. All he knew at the moment was that, for the first time since that dreadful night when Sue disappeared, Mun looked happy.
Harky fidgeted. He'd like it well enough if Mun always looked happy, but he dared not assume the fearful responsibility of pronouncing judgment on Duckfoot. Nor was it for him to bring a hound that was only part hound into the household. Not even if the hound part was all Precious Sue. Harky steeled himself, caught up Duckfoot, and extended his paw.
"Look!"
For a moment Mun did not speak. Then he discovered his voice.
"Goshamighty! Whar'd ye git that pup?"
"In the pool by the shale bank he was, trying to get a sucker from beneath that crookety willow—"
Mun listened attentively, and when Harky finished he cleared his throat. But he did not speak for a full forty-five seconds.
"I got it figgered now," he said seriously. "When Sue run off that night, she missed Old Joe, but now I know how come she didn't drown. A duck pulled her out of the water."