The Judge stared at him. "At Becky?"
Flippin nodded. "Didn't you know it?"
"Bless my soul." The Judge was unquestionably startled. "But I don't know anything about him. I can't have him running after Becky."
"Seems to me he's been a-runnin'."
"But what would Claudia say? I don't know anything about his family. Maybe he hasn't any
family. How do I know he isn't a fortune-hunter?"
"Well, he isn't a bird hunter, I can tell you that. I saw him kick one of your dogs. A man that will kick a dog isn't fit to hold a gun."
"No, he isn't," said the Judge, soberly. "I'm upset by what you've said, Flippin. Dalton's all right as far as I can see as a friend of mine. But when anybody comes courting at Huntersfield he's got to show credentials."
He ate his lunch without much appetite. He was guiltily aware of what Claudia would say if she knew what had happened.
But perhaps nothing had happened and perhaps she need not know. He cheered up and threw a bit of ham to the waiting dogs. Perhaps Becky wasn't interested. Perhaps, after all, Dalton had been genuine in his interest in the stuffed birds.