“Probably wants to swear out a warrant for assault,” grinned Breezy, unlocking the door. “Give him time to cool off, and he won’t feel so bad about it. I wonder where Len went.”
He wasn’t in sight on the street, because he had gone up to Prentice’s house and was knocking on the door. Minnie came to answer the knock, and behind her was little Larry. Len looked at the expressionless face of the squaw and then at the face of his son.
“I heard what happened last night,” he said slowly, “so I—want yuh to come out to the ranch with me, Larry.”
The boy’s face lighted up for just a flash—and then he remembered. He came past the Indian woman, came very close to his father, his hands behind him, but did not look up.
“Don’tcha want to come with me, Larry?” asked Len.
“I want to come, but I can’t,” he said.
“Why can’t yuh come, son?”
The boy took a deep breath, but he was game.
“If you hadn’t done that—last night,” he said.
“Done what, Larry? Look up at me. Done what?”