"But if I'd gone through what you have, I'd keep out
of danger."
"I like it," said Tunk, with emphasis. "I couldn't live without
it. Danger is a good deal like chawin' terbaccer--dum nasty 'til
ye git used to it. Fer me it's suthin' like strawberry short-cake
and allwus was. An' nerve, man, why jes' look a' there."
He held out a hand to show its steadiness.
"Very good," Trove remarked.
"Good? Why, it's jest as stiddy as a hitchin' post, an' purty nigh
as stout. Feel there," said Tunk, swelling his biceps.
"You must be very strong," said Trove, as he felt the rigid arm.
"A man has t' be in the boss business, er he ain't nowheres. If
they get wicked, ye've got t' put the power to 'em."
Tunk had only one horse to care for at the widow's, but he was
always in "the hoss business."
Then Tunk lit his torch and went away. Trove lay down, pulled his
blanket about him, and went to sleep.
XXIII
A New Problem
When Trove woke in the morning, a package covered with white paper
lay on the blanket near his hand. He rose and picked it up, and
saw his own name in a strange handwriting on the wrapper. He
turned it, looking curiously at seal and superscription.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202