As
they neared the house, he spoke to her.
"The next time you want to go to 'a show' I guess I'd better take you
myself, after all," he whispered. "You'll find a hot-water bag in your
bed, and hot lemonade in the thermos bottle on the little table beside
it. I put a small 'stick' in it--oh, just a twig! And I've kept the
kitchen fire up. The water in the tank's almost boiling, if you happen to
feel like a good tub--"
He helped her out, and held open the front door for her gravely. Then,
closing it behind her, he turned to Thomas.
"You'd better run along, too," he said, with a slight drawl; "I'll put
the horse up."
"Oh, go to hell!" sobbed Thomas.
CHAPTER XI
"So you refused Weston's offer of three hundred dollars for Frieda?"
"Yes, father. Do you think I was wrong?"
"Well, I don't know. That's a good deal of money, Austin."
"I know, but think what she cost to import, and the record she's making!
I told him he might have two of the brand-new bull calves at
seventy-five apiece.
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