“And that’s true too,” Tom said cheerily.
Somehow (I may have been doing Rivers an injustice) I felt that what he said was intended as a slur on Brent and me, because we were not of the working force.
“How’d yer know them targets wasn’t put on the top shelf only a couple of days ago?” Rivers drawled. “How’d yer know but what mebbe four of us was target shootin’ afore you come?”
“That’s a good one on you, Doc,” Tom laughed.
“How did you know they were on the top shelf?” Brent drawled, addressing Rivers. “You’re a kind of a detective, too,—huh?”
For just a second I fancied that Rivers was disconcerted. Perhaps he was annoyed at being heckled by this lanky, bespectacled young fellow. It seemed to me as if he had the woodman’s contempt for city drones.
“There you go, Charlie; how about that?” laughed Tom.
“They happen to be dated,” Brent said.
“Well,” Tom laughed, “you two make yourselves at home around here to-day and get a good rest. We’re going to fell trees. To-morrow, if you want to, you can give us a hand. Pretty soon we’re going to take a couple of days off and go down the Ausable and see the Chasm. We’re going to get some fish in a place where they hang out. Charlie will show you birds how to play a trout, won’t you, Charlie?”
“I sure will,” Charlie said. So I knew there was no bad feeling following the little duel of wits.