But he could not take his eyes from her face. He
forgot his embarrassment in his admiration, and it was her turn to
flush and feel uncomfortable.
It was at this juncture, when Walt had just decided it was time for
him to be saying something to relieve the strain, that Wolf, who
had been away nosing through the brush, trotted wolf-like into
view.
Skiff Miller's abstraction disappeared. The pretty woman before
him passed out of his field of vision. He had eyes only for the
dog, and a great wonder came into his face.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he enunciated slowly and solemnly.
He sat down ponderingly on the log, leaving Madge standing. At the
sound of his voice, Wolf's ears had flattened down, then his mouth
had opened in a laugh. He trotted slowly up to the stranger and
first smelled his hands, then licked them with his tongue.
Skiff Miller patted the dog's head, and slowly and solemnly
repeated, "Well, I'll be damned!"
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said the next moment "I was just s'prised
some, that was all."
"We're surprised, too," she answered lightly.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182