“The low-down cur!” he breathed, clenching his fists, his face set and slightly paler than usual.
“Hamilton! Hamilton! Don’t disturb yourself so,” begged Emma solicitously. “Be calm, do. I will demonstrate for you.”
“Aw, let the peanut man do the demonstrating,” jeered Stacy. “Your demonstrating might do at a family picnic, but up here it is punk!”
White gave no heed to Emma’s sympathetic words. He stood with lowered chin thinking.
“The peanut man!” cried Nora.
“Yes. Where is Mr. Haley, Mr. White?” demanded Grace.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Gray,” replied the guide slowly. “I thought he was sleeping beside me when I sprang up. I haven’t seen him since,” added Ham White, bending over to poke the fire.
The Overlanders looked at each other, and each knew what the other was thinking about.
“Some demonstrator, that fellow,” observed Stacy Brown. “I’m mighty glad that he didn’t demonstrate over that fifty-cent piece in my trousers pocket.”