He turned his face to the softly diffused sunlight. “To be continued. The storm isn’t over yet, according to the way I feel about it. Weather reports say so, too.”
“Then take me for a walk!” she cried. “I’m tired of rain and I want to go over and lean against that lovely white mountain.”
“Well, it’s only sixty miles away,” he answered. “Perhaps you’d better take some grub along or you might get hungry.”
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
“This is my busy morning. If it were afternoon, now—”
“Very well. Since you are so urgent, I will stay to luncheon. I’ll even get it up myself if you’ll let me into the shack.”
“That’s a go!” said Banneker heartily. “What about your horse?”
“I walked over.”
“No; did you?” He turned thoughtful, and his next observation had a slightly troubled ring. “Have you got a gun?”
“A gun? Oh, you mean a pistol. No; I haven’t. Why should I?”