"Nothing much," he replied. "I was just planning things. I've a heap to do before Mr. Banks lands here with his patent range finders, and seventeen different kinds of rifles. He's not the kind to kick at hard hunting, and he's generous; but he likes to have everything tidy and handy."
"I'm sure he'll have nothin' to complain of, Davy, so long as you look after him," returned Mrs. Marsh. "But what kept you out so late last night?"
"I was talking to Jim Harley."
"Oh, you were at the Harleys' place, were you? You seem to be gettin' along fine in that quarter, Davy."
The young man blushed. "I wasn't at the house, mother," he said. "I met Jim over at Rayton's, and we went for a walk together. He had a regular talking fit on, I can tell you."
"I didn't know Jim was ever took that way," returned the mother. "So you saw young Mr. Rayton, did you? And how is he?"
"He's all right, I guess."
"He's a very polite, agreeable young man."
"Oh, yes, he's polite enough."
Mrs. Marsh looked at him sharply.