Come on, Hamlet--he's Buck
Williams's--gentle as a kitten."
"Yes, he'll know," she repeated, contentedly, reaching for Hamlet's
black muzzle.
"But I don't think that was right, do you, Lin, even for a joke?"
she queried, following him down the side path. The big hound padded
on behind them.
"No," he agreed briefly.
"Wasn't it funny he had one of your pins?" She was trotting rapidly,
to keep up with him.
Lindsay stopped short and almost faced her. He looked very young and
tired.
"I swear, Caroline, I believe worse men have worn it!" he said.
V
A PILLAR OF SOCIETY
Caroline slipped out of the woodshed with Henry D. Thoreau barking
under his breath at her heels, and struck across the dusty mountain
road into the trail. The advantages of the woodshed were many: it
was cool and dark, the stacked wood had a soothing odor and a neat,
restful appearance, and one was more or less forgotten there. More
important, it lay directly under the long living-room, and sounds
carried easily through the primitive plank floor. Up to now the
murmur of the company's voices had been a negligible quantity, a
background for thought, merely, but suddenly a familiar intonation
had risen higher.
"Why, certainly, Caroline can show you--she knows all the trails.
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