he sent the man spinning into the crowd
No one doubted the truth of the lad’s assertion. It spoke in the dignity of his whole figure; in the proud poise of his head; in the unflinching gaze with which he met their eyes.
Of course he was Peter Coddington!
Why had they never guessed it before?
More than one man, as the work of carrying in the skins was completed, reviewed in his mind Peter’s career at the tanneries and marveled that he had not suspected the secret from the first.
Tolman, astounded at the shock of the discovery, paused, then shuffled shamefacedly forward as if to offer an apology, but no word came to his lips.
The awkwardness of the stillness was dispelled by Peter himself, who, turning at last to the men, said simply: “We made good time getting the leather under cover, and we were none too soon. See—here comes the rain!”
How the news sped through the vast tanneries! It seemed fairly to leap from one building to another. On every hand the men took up the tale and discussed it.