“Die? Bless your heart,” he laughed again. “She’s living up in Colebrook. Went back over the same route her mother had traveled, and married in the old home town. Pioneer people live to be pretty old.”
“It must have been wonderful,” Jean said. “Mother’s from the West too, only way out West, from California. Her brother has the big ranch there where she was born, but she never knew any hardships at all. Everything was comfortable and there was always plenty of money, she says, and it never seemed like the real West to us, when she’d tell of it.”
“Oh, but it is, the real West of the last sixty years, as it has grown up to success and prosperity. If I keep you here talking any longer to an old fellow like myself, the boys won’t be responsible for their actions. You’re a novelty, you know. Bruce is glaring at me.”
He rose leisurely and went over beside Mrs. Moffat’s chair, and Bruce Pearson hurried to take his place.
“I thought he’d keep you talking here all night. And you sat there drinking it all in as if you liked it.”
“I did,” said Jean flatly. “I loved it. I haven’t been here at all. I’ve been way out on a Kansas prairie.”
“Stuff,” said Bruce calmly. “Say, got any good dogs up at your place?”
“No. Kit wrote me she picked up a stray shepherd dog, but I haven’t seen him yet. Why?” Jean looked at him with sudden curiosity.
“Nothing, only you remember when you were moving from the Cove, Tommy sold me his Cocker pup?”
“Yes, I remember.”