As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared
cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection
on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand
was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and
went out.
Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from
the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round
bottle and two glass tumblers.
"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured
out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along.
Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had
taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to
drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking.
They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various
improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's
suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them
sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary
already seated.
The Easterner was placed next to Mrs.
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