Mr. Devering wished the lad to find out that his mother was alive in some way that would not shock him, so he hung on the wall this large photograph of her in the costume of a Red Cross nurse. He hoped that Dallas would piece together her story from what Bolshy had said in the afternoon. However, as it turned out the boy had no chance to examine the picture.
The overjoyed Bolshy, forgetting all about keeping his hands up, sprang across the room, unhooked the picture, and hanging it round his neck began to hug it as if it had been a bag of gold.
Mrs. Devering smiled, then knowing that she could not get this man mountain out of the room herself, she stepped to the veranda and gave the Devering Farm yodel for help.
It rang out startlingly clear in the still night air, and in a jiffy Mr. Talker came tearing down the road, dressing as he came, and the Macedonian rolled heavily along from the carriage-house.
Bolshy, paying no more attention to them than if they had been two more ponies, went on talking rapid Russian to the picture, not noticing Dallas, who was now wide awake, and curious, but not at all frightened, I was glad to see.
"Send him home, please," said Mrs. Devering. "Tell him the soldier will be angry with him."
The yodel had waked the children up, and they came staggering to the room sleepy but unafraid like true children of the wild.
Big Chief scowled and placed himself beside his mother, while Cassowary threw protecting arms about the little ones.
"Send him home," repeated Mrs. Devering. "Quick!"
"Go home, sir," said Mr. Talker with dignity.