"I guess your interference ain't needed now, Flick," began Gallito. "I can—"
Hughie ran his hand caressingly down the old Spaniard's sleeve. "No need to tell old Bob that we're a united family, Pop," he cried. "Why I'm already composing a wedding march." He caught his adopted father's hand in his.
At this mute expression of affection from the being who was nearest his heart Gallito's face softened a little, although he gazed back at Bob Flick with a baffled and still scornful smile.
"Well," he said reluctantly, "it ain't often I confess I'm beat, but I guess I'm too old to stand both Hughie and the girl taking sides against me, not to speak of you, Flick, and I know if it came to a choice between me and those two where you'd stand."
"There ain't going to be any sides taken," said Flick. "We are going to give in and take what's coming to us, Gallito, like sensible men, whether we like it or not. When's the wedding, Pearl?"
A great, beautiful wave of crimson swept over her face.
"Harry wants it right away," she said.
"The sooner the better," remarked Bob Flick dryly. "And, by the way"—he put his hand in his pocket and drew out the little black leather bag she had given José—"José sent you back this for a wedding present. Honest, he didn't keep out more than three stones. Why," a flash of alarm on his face, "what's the matter, Hughie?"
The blind boy was standing a little apart from the rest. His head was thrown up and his face was pale. He was nervously clinching and unclinching his hands, but with that exception his attitude was one of tenseness and singular stillness, as if every faculty were concentrated.
"There's something about," he gasped, "something bad. I can't tell what it is yet, but I'll know in a minute. Ah-hh!" He rushed across the open space before the cabin and into the trees that grew thickly at the side.