“Not if I keep my health and agility,” he looked without pleasure at the scene about him. “I have come, at the earnest request of a very earnest parent, to have a look at my mill, and having had it, will be very swiftly on my way again.”
“I see,” said Luke Manders. “Very well, then, sir—if you should want me, I’ll be in the office.”
“The possibility is extremely remote,” said the visitor, “but I shall be greatly obliged if you will send the assistant to me at once.”
“Who?”
“The assistant—your assistant! Our assistant! The girl with the sunset hair, who left us recently, with so much emphasis.”
“Glen Darrow?” The dark face of the mountaineer seemed to darken still further as the blood mounted in it.
“That is, I believe, her singularly picturesque name. Tell her, if you will be so kind, that I desire her presence immediately.”
The superintendent started to speak but changed his mind quite visibly, and said, after an instant’s burdened pause, “All right, Mr. Parker, sir,” and went into his office.
Peter Parker renewed his fascinated study of the Tolliver family. “And you,” he addressed the old man, “are what is called a dinner-toter?”
The old fellow hung his head. “Jes’ beginning to-day, suh. Super, he ’lows I’m jes’ pintly too old fo’ any good use.”