“Anyway, I didn’t lie,” said Westy, his eyes brimming.
“I never accused you of lying and I’m not laying all the blame to you either,” thundered his father. “Three and three and three make nine. A boy, a gun, and a wild animal make a killing and that’s all there is to it.”
“Well, then let’s talk of something else,” said Mrs. Martin gently. “Don’t you think this ash tray is very pretty? Westy brought it to you, dear.”
“For goodness’ sake, don’t use the word dear again, mother,” said Doris, munching her apple. “I’ve heard so much about deers——”
“And the boy’s lost a hundred dollars!” thundered Mr. Martin, ignoring his daughter. “When I was his age——”
“Well, he’s had his lesson,” said Doris sweetly. “A hundred dollars isn’t so much for a good lesson.”
“No?” said her father. “It’s enough for you to make a big fuss about when you want it. I said from the beginning that I was opposed to firearms. I don’t want them around the house—look at Doctor Warren’s boy.”
At this Doris sank into a limp attitude of utter despair, for the accidental killing of the Warren boy had occurred before Westy was born and it had been cited on an average of twice a day ever since Westy’s rifle had been brought into the house under the frowning protest of his father.
“Well, now, let’s settle this matter once and for all,” said Mr. Martin. “And I don’t want to be interrupted either,” he added. “You’ve bought a gun against my wishes,” he said, turning on Westy. “You had to have a gun—nothing would do but a gun. Your mother saw no harm. Your sister said there was—what did you say?—something heroic, was it, about a gun? All right, you got the gun—repeater or whatever it is. I asked you not to take it away with you but you must take it to shoot at targets. You went up there to earn some money to go out to the Yellowstone. Now here you are back again with hardly a cent in your pockets and you’ve broken the law and the one thing I’m thankful for is that you haven’t shed the blood of some other boy. Now this is the last word I’m going to say about it——”
Doris groaned, Mrs. Martin looked sadly at her son who was listening respectfully, shifting from one foot to the other, his straightforward eyes brimming over.