He did not look back as he ran. He did not stop at the pillar this time. He went right up on the porch. Policemen didn't come to their house every day. Kelley had not sat down.
"That's all right, Bob," Earle was saying. "John or I will look after him till the matter's settled."
Then, said Kelley, he would be going before the storm broke. He went down the steps and down the walk. There was no sun now.
Mrs. Davis rose. She was a stout, motherly woman. She was dressed up as if it were Sunday. Mr. Davis rose, too. You could never tell because of his beard whether he had on a cravat or not.
"I want to see the child, Steve," Mrs. Davis said. Her face was so earnest it almost frightened Tommy. "Oh, I hope I will love him! I could not take a child I did not love. I always thought I wanted one that had been well brought up. I don't know what I would do with the other kind—but if he loves me——"
Steve turned and saw Tommy looking up at them with wide eyes. Frank had lain down in the walk.
"Where have you got your friend stuck away, old man?" asked Steve.
"Out at the barn, Papa. He's skeered."
They all went down the steps. Frank rose and followed, with panting mouth and wagging tail. He was a part of everything they did. This was his place as well as theirs, and he had his share in all that went on. As they turned the corner of the house they came face to face with the black thunder cloud in the west. As if it had seen them, there came from its depths a distant rumble.