CHAPTER XVIII
A CATCH OF MORE THAN FISH
Long before the guests appeared at the breakfast table next morning Cockney was away on Pink Eye; so that there was nothing to fear from him. A singular and confusing reticence was on them. Several times the Professor cleared his throat as if he would speak of the things they were avoiding, but he thought better of it each time and continued his meal in silence.
Imp was there, slinking close to Mary's skirts wherever she went, cowering, every bit of his chirpy impudence gone. His mistress reached down and rubbed his ears.
"He leaped through my window this morning and ran under the bed. He would scarcely come out. If you'll tell me how I can keep you, little fellow, I'm willing to try. It's home in a storm, isn't it? Dakota doesn't wear, does he?"
Imp waggled a lifeless tail and relapsed into obscurity.
A heavy knock startled them, and Dakota walked in.
"Mr. Aikens here?"
"He went away early, Dakota—perhaps across to the Double Bar-O. I know he was intending to see Mr. Gerard soon on business."
Dakota's eyes were roving about the room. Imp tried to slink to the other side of the concealing skirts, and Dakota's face lit up. He reached over and prodded the terrier with a forefinger.
"Scared o' the wolves, little shaver, eh? I don't wonder. We don't hear 'em often up here."