He wrinkled his forehead at her. "Sometimes, Sally Jane, you talk most awful puzzling."
"Those two old rascals!" she cried.
"Don't you think their intentions are honorable?"
Sally Jane's laughter was sardonic.
"Are they trying to fool me, or what?" he persisted.
"I don't know whether they're trying to fool you or not," was the reply, "but they're trying to fool somebody, that's a cinch."
"Do you know now, Sally Jane, I was thinking something like that myself."
She looked at him with a gleam of respect in her eyes. "I wonder if you really have a brain after all, William. Occasionally you give out a spark that leads one to believe that there may be a trace of reasoning power underneath your waving hair. What makes you think they have an ulterior motive?"
"Humanly speaking, I dunno why; but I do."
"Instinct is the white woman's burden, boy. You'd better leave it alone. But it doesn't take any instinct to tell me that there's a man and brother hiding in the cord-wood. To find the dark-hued gentleman—that is the question."