“Cavanaugh certainly gets around,” Sandy said. “Did he have anyone with him?”
“Yes, a young man who seemed to worship the ground he walked on. He was nice enough, but, well, sort of dewy-eyed, if you know what I mean.”
“I know,” Sandy grunted, “and not quite dry behind the ears, either. That was Pepper March.”
“Well, time to get classes started.” Kitty jumped up with a flutter of skirts and shooed her children to their desks. For the next two hours, while Sandy listened admiringly, she was an efficient, understanding schoolma’am. As he followed the recitation he had to admit that, as she had said, the Navajo children were “bright as silver dollars.” They displayed an eagerness to learn that almost frightened him. Very few youngsters showed that hunger for knowledge back at Valley View High.
That got him to thinking about poor old Quiz. How he would have enjoyed this visit. What tough luck! But maybe he’d have a chance to get some sort of line on Cavanaugh, the big lug.
The roar of an approaching truck jerked him out of his reverie. Kitty quickly dismissed her pupils and she and Sandy were alone in the trailer when Cavanaugh strode in, closely pursued by Pepper.
“Oh!” The big man frowned at the unexpected visitor until Pepper rushed forward, shouting Sandy’s name, and shook hands as though his school rival were the best friend he had in the world.
Then Cavanaugh turned on a smile as bright as a neon sign and insisted on shaking hands too.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Pepper,” he boomed. “Wish you were on my team instead of John Hall’s. Say! I heard you had a bit of luck at your well. Is that right?”
“Luck?” Sandy stammered, wondering how on earth he was going to get out of this one.