"I'd like to go with you," he answered, "for it'll be a picnic; but business is business, an' the peace of the county's got to be looked after," he added, with a sly glance at his wife, a little woman with a firm mouth and big nose, who had come up while he was speaking. This little lady was a very determined woman, and ruled her lord with an iron hand in all matters relating to temperance and early hours and things of that sort, but for his good, be it said, and not unkindly.
"We should like to have you go if you could get away," I answered, for Blott was fine company.
"It would be great if both Blott and Mr. Fox could go, Gilbert," Constance spoke up, seeing in this greater safety for me in fighting off the outlaws and desperadoes with which she had peopled every lonely place since the night in Murderer's Hollow.
"He can't, though, Miss Constance," Mrs. Blott broke in. "He couldn't be away so long, and besides he might have a return of the old malady, an' I ain't goin' to risk it."
"There ain't a bit of danger, Sarah," Blott answered, "for I'm livin' too near the sky to ketch anything but a cold. Do you know, Gilbert, I can hardly keep my feet on the ground, an' have to clip my wings every mornin', I'm so good. Only Sarah's stricter'n she need be sometimes."
"No, I ain't," Mrs. Blott spoke up, "seein' what indulgence led you into before."
"You see how I'm treed," Blott answered, looking at me ruefully.
"One can't be too careful, Blott," Fox answered; "being out nights and away from the comforts of home is bad for those inclined to malarial troubles."
"That's no dream; but there ain't no danger in my case," Blott answered.
"I don't know about that," Mrs. Blott broke in; "but we've got the habit broke up, an' it's best to keep it so."