"A fox skin is certainly worth something."
"Hadn't I better try to put out bait for lynx and wolf?"
"I should think that would be dearer."
"Yes, but the skin—if I get any; it depends on that, you see."
Then he would saunter thoughtfully out of the door, to come back an hour later and again and again fill her ears with the same thing.
Ma's instinct told her that the object of his first catch was really she; if she allowed herself to be fooled into giving positive advice, he would not forget to let her feel the responsibility for the result, if it should be a loss.
To-day he had again been pondering and going over the affair with her, when they were surprised by the sheriff's double sleigh driving up to the steps.
The hall door, creaking with the frost, flew open under the captain's eager hand.
"In with you into the sitting-room, Sheriff."
Behind his wolf-skin coat Thinka emerged, stately and wrapped up in furs.