"That high-priced doctor from the city fired me out," said Dex Coleman, coming down to the barn where Jim Burns sat on the oat-box, behind the stall where the newly-arrived Toddburn livery horse munched hungrily at a fresh feed of hay, "and Bill's upstairs, so I couldn't ast him what it is. If it's a boy, the old lady will go crazy—that's one thing sure. Milt Hayes says he'll find out, as soon as he gets warmed up, and come down here and let us know."
Milt Hayes was the Toddburn liveryman's son, who had brought out the doctor to the Ware farm over roads crisped and snowbound by February, and had been given license to remain by the stove in the bustling and anxious house, until he "got thawed out".
"Ain't it queer, when you come to think of it, Dex?" remarked Jim Burns, as the other sat down beside him on the oat-box.
"Ain't what queer, Jim?" said Dex Coleman.
"Her," said Jim Burns, "goin' to school with us about five years ago, an' now—"
"It's queer, all right," agreed Dex Coleman.
"I wonder what she could have saw in him," pursued Jim Burns, following the groove of an old problem.
"Oh, I dunno," Dex Coleman set his hat to the back of his head and spat down between his hands in a thoughtful way, "Bill ain't a bad head, Jim, when you get to know him. I never worked for a better boss, nor for higher wages. He pays me every cent I'm worth an' a little more."
"Maybe so," said Jim Burns, "I ain't got nothin' against him personally. But—"