"We're both pretty peppery. But we'll make out, all right. You didn't"--he blushed consciously--"you didn't think I was going to--to fall dead in love--""Didn't I?" Phoebe laughed at him openly. "I'd have been more surprised if you hadn't. Why, my grief! I know enough about human nature, I hope, to expect--""Churning?" The voice of Baumberger purred down to them. There he stood bulkily at the top of the steps, good-naturedly regarding them. "Mr. Hart and I are goin' to take a ride up to the station--gotta send a telegram or two about this little affair"--he made a motion with his pipe toward the orchard--"and I just thought a good, cold drink of buttermilk before we start wouldn't be bad." His glance just grazed Good Indian, and passed him over as being of no consequence.
"If you don't happen to have any handy, it don't matter in the least," he added, and turned to go when Phoebe shook her head.
"Anything we can get for yuh at the store, Mrs. Hart? Won't be any trouble at all--Oh, all right." He had caught another shake of the head.
"We may be gone till supper-time," he explained further, "and Itrust to your good sense, Mrs. Hart, to see that the boys keep away from those fellows down there." The pipe, and also his head, again indicated the men in the orchard. "We don't want any ill feeling stirred up, you understand, and so they'd better just keep away from 'em. They're good boys--they'll do as you say."He leered at her ingratiatingly, shot a keen, questioning look at Good Indian, and went his lumbering way.
Grant went to the top of the steps, and made sure that he had really gone before he said a word. Even then he sat down upon the edge of the stairway with his back to the pond, so that he could keep watch of the approaches to the spring-house; he had become an exceedingly suspicious young man overnight.
"Mother Hart, on the square, what do you think of Baumberger?" he asked her abruptly. "Come and sit down; I want to talk with you--if I can without having the whole of Idaho listening.""Oh, Grant--I don't know what to think! He seems all right, and Idon't know why he shouldn't be just what he seems; he's got the name of being a good lawyer. But something--well, I get notions about things sometimes. And I can't, somehow, feel just right about him taking up this jumping business. I don't know why. Iguess it's just a feeling, because I can see you don't like him.
And the boys don't seem to, either, for some reason. I guess it's because he won't let 'em get right after those fellows and drive 'em off the ranch. They've been uneasy as they could be all day." She sat down upon a rough stool just inside the door, and looked up at him with troubled eyes. "And I'm getting it, too--seems like I'd go all to pieces if I can't do SOMETHING!"She sighed, and tried to cover the sigh with a laugh--which was not, however, a great success. "I wish I could be as cool-headed as Thomas," she said, with a tinge of petulance. "It don't seem to worry him none!""What does he think of Baumberger? Is he going to let him take the case and handle it to please himself?" Good Indian was tapping his boot-toe thoughtfully upon the bottom step, and glancing up now and then as a precaution against being overheard.
"I guess so," she admitted, answering the last question first.
"I haven't had a real good chance to talk to Thomas all day.
Baumberger has been with him most of the time. But I guess he is; anyway, Baumberger seems to take it for granted he's got the case. Thomas hates to hurt anybody's feelings, and, even if he didn't want him, he'd hate to say so. But he's as good a lawyer as any, I guess. And Thomas seems to like him well enough.
Thomas," she reminded Good Indian unnecessarily, "never does say much about anything.""I'd like to get a chance to talk to him," Good Indian observed.
"I'll have to just lead him off somewhere by main strength, Iguess. Baumberger sticks to him like a bur to a dog's tail.
What are those fellows doing down there now ? Does anybody know?""You heard what he said to me just now," Phoebe said, impatiently. "He don't want anybody to go near. It's terribly aggravating," she confessed dispiritedly, "to have a lot of ruffians camped down, cool as you please, on your own ranch, and not be allowed to drive 'em off. I don't wonder the boys are all sulky. If Baumberger wasn't here at all, I guess we'd have got rid of 'em before now. I don't know as I think very much of lawyers, anyhow. I believe I'd a good deal rather fight first and go,to law about it afterward if I had to. But Thomas is so--CALM!""I think I'll go down and have a look," said Good Indian suddenly. "I'm not under Baumberger's orders, if the rest of the bunch is. And I wish you'd tell Peaceful I want to talk to him, Mother Hart--will you? Tell him to ditch his guardian angel somehow. I'd like to see him on the quiet if I can, but if Ican't--""Can't be nice, and forgiving, and repentant, and--a dear?"Evadna had crept over to him by way of the rocks behind the pond, and at every pause in her questioning she pushed him forward by his two shoulders. "I'm so furious I could beat you! What do you mean, savage, by letting a lady stay all afternoon by herself, waiting for you to come and coax her into being nice to you?
