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“He’s growing,” thought Peter, as he called down to him. “He’s going to be a fine dog.”

A few minutes later Poleon Dufresne passed Simon’s cabin with a pail of milk and heard the Scotchman whistling. This was unusual, and he paused to thrust in a curious face at the door, smiling good morning. Simon was getting breakfast with an almost boyish[102] enthusiasm, and when Poleon saw Peter scrubbing his face his jaws fell apart in amazement.

“Morning, Poleon,” greeted Simon. “This is Peter—Peter McRae, and I’ve adopted him. He’s the son of an old friend of mine, and he came last night as a sort of surprise. He’s going to bide with me.”

This was a lot of information for Simon to give on any one subject at any one time, and Poleon came in with 佛山夜网 his pail, grinning his appreciation. He laid a hand affectionately on Peter’s shoulder and told him how glad the people in Five Fingers would be to have him among them. Peter liked Poleon’s round, rosy face with its cheery blue eyes, and when about to go Poleon turned a third of the contents of his pail into an earthenware crock and said to Peter:

“That’s for you, boy. Simon here doesn’t care for milk, but he must get plenty of it now for you. There’s nothing like milk to make you fat and healthy.”

It was Saturday. Peter learned that fact half an hour later while he was helping Simon wash the breakfast dishes. It came from a voice behind them, and Peter turned to find Mona standing in the door.

“It’s Saturday and there is no school,” she announced. “So I have come to get you acquainted with Five Fingers, Peter.”

An enormous 佛山桑拿论坛的qq群 thrill ran through Peter. She was even lovelier than yesterday as she stood with her slim little figure framed in the doorway. Her beautiful dark eyes were shining, and looking at him, and her wonderful[103] black hair was plaited in a braid that looked like a rope of velvet. Even Simon’s undemonstrative face broke into an appreciative smile.

Once he had told Pierre Gourdon it was not good for a child to be as beautiful as Mona. But a new thought came into his mind this morning, a strange and weird thought for a Scotchman of his nature, and he chuckled softly as he told Peter to wipe his hands and go with Mona. Then he went to her, and tilted up her pretty chin, and ran his hand over her smooth hair that was like silk to his work-hardened palm. He had never done that before, and Mona was surprised. She was surprised, too, at 佛山桑拿配件 the changed look in his face and eyes. He seemed to be a different Simon McQuarrie from the one she had always known.

“So you helped Peter whip that young rascal Aleck Curry, did you?” he asked with a wicked note of exultation in his voice.

She flushed a little and cast a swift glance at Peter.

“Peter had him whipped when I went in,” she replied loyally.

“No, I didn’t,” corrected Peter. “He was just going to mess me up in proper shape when you hit him with the stick. But I can lick him today.”

Mona smiled proudly at him. Then she looked sternly at Simon.

“You killed one of my 佛山夜生活约炮 porcupines.”

“I had to,” explained Simon. “He was eating my axe. Peter will take him over to the cemetery for you.”

[104]

He returned to his work and Peter and Mona went to the dead porcupine. Buddy was sniffing suspiciously at the corpse, and at 佛山桑拿服务微信 sight of the red stains on the earth Mona shivered.

“He didn’t need to kill it,” she said. “I heard you call to him to let the white one go. He could have let this one go, too.”

“You heard me?”

She nodded. “I saw the candle in your room until it went out. Then I sat at the window in the moonlight. I didn’t feel like sleeping.”

“Neither did I,” said Peter, his heart beating strangely. “I—I was wondering if you were awake. Did you hear the lake?”

“I always hear it.”

He picked up the dead porcupine, feeling that he had said something wrong. Mona took the other foot and together they 佛山桑拿哪家好 carried their burden beyond the farthest cabin to a high little meadow at the foot of a green knoll. Here, Peter observed, were many scores of green little mounds, and many others over which the grass had not grown, and still others very fresh. And everywhere among them flowers were growing. Mona pointed out a spade, and he dug a hole. When the porcupine was buried, Mona said:

“That is the twenty-seventh this spring. I wonder why porcupines like cabin doors and windowsills and axes and table legs when there are so many nice things to eat in the woods?”

[105]

“It’s the salt,” explained Peter. “They like to eat anything somebody has handled. Once, when we were away, they ate our windows until all the glass fell out.”

“I put salt in the woods, lots of it,” said Mona. “The deer like it too, and the rabbits, and the mice, and 佛山桑拿体验 almost everything alive except the birds. Uncle Pierre has the tug bring me a barrel of salt every time it comes. Last time that beast of an Aleck Curry stole pepper from the tug’s kitchen and put it in my salt.”

“I’m going to lick him today,” he assured her.

In her possessive little way she took his hand as they walked back. “I don’t want you to fight him, not unless you have to, Peter. He isn’t worth it. You have nice eyes, and they don’t look good swollen half shut. I wish mine were blue.”

“I don’t,” declared Peter with a suddenness that startled him. “They’re—they’re——”

“What?” she insisted.

“They’re—awfully pretty,” finished Peter bravely. “I never seen—I mean I never saw such pretty eyes.”

He

felt like wriggling down into his collar, and looked away from her. Mona blushed, and if Peter had observed he would have 佛山桑拿网论坛 seen her eyes sparkling.

“And I wish I had light hair, too—like yours,” she added.

“I don’t,” he fought manfully. “Your hair is—prettier than your eyes. When I first saw you, there in the sun, I thought——”

[106]

“What did you think?” she asked with interest.

“I dunno. I dunno what I thought.”

He was tremendously uncomfortable, and was glad the musical droning of the sawmill began just then. That was another thrill, the clean, high-pitched cutting of steel through wood. There is something chummy and companionable about the sound of a sawmill at work in the heart of a forest country. It is friendly even to a stranger and makes one feel at home, and when Mona and Peter came to the mill the half-dozen

men there were going about their duties as if they were a pleasure instead of work. They were a happy lot. Peter could see that 佛山桑拿会所美女图片 with his boyish eyes, and his heart responded quickly to the gladdening pulse of it.