Sam’s lips twitched. “Well, he is outfitted pretty gorgeously.”
“I should say he was!”
“That’s nothing against him, though.”
Poke wagged his head sagely. “No; fine feathers don’t make fine birds, or spoil ’em either. When you take time and think about it——”
“You wait your turn, Poke,” Step objected. “Let Sam finish.”
“I’m through,” said Sam.
“Oh, I guess we’re all through with Varley before we really begin with him,” quoth Step. “We’ve got our crowd. I don’t see how he can make much difference to us. We’re all of us right here now, and——”
Herman Boyd, who had been looking out of the window, whistled sharply, sprang to his feet, peered through the pane, then retreated swiftly.
“Whew! Talk about angels or people!” he exclaimed. “Great Scott! but he must be coming here. I saw him turn in at the gate and——”
“Who turned in?”