“Yes, yes, of course. Go on.”
“Well, I judge John thought 'twas funny, too—but never mind. After you'd gone, he and I had our talk. I told him everything. He was kind of troubled; I could see that; but he stood up for you through thick and thin. He only laughed when I told him—told him some things, those that worried me most.”
Gertrude noticed his hesitation.
“What were those things?” she asked.
“Oh, nothin'. They seem so foolish now; but at that time—”
“Daddy, did you tell him of my—my supposed friendship for Mr. Hungerford?”
Daniel reluctantly nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “I told him some. Maybe I told him more than was absolutely true. Perhaps I exaggerated a little. But he was so stubborn in not believin', that.... Hey? By Godfreys!” as the thought struck him for the first time, “THAT wasn't what ailed John, was it? He wasn't JEALOUS of that consarned Percy?”
Gertrude did not answer.
“It couldn't be,” continued Daniel. “He's got more sense than that. Besides, you told him, when you and he were alone together, why you was actin' so, didn't you? Or did he know it beforehand? I presume likely he did. Your mother and I seem to have been the only animals left outside the show tent.”
Again there was no answer. When the young lady spoke it was to ask another question.