"
Mrs. Slogan must have felt the truth of this accusation, for she voiced
no denial. The room across the passage suddenly became quiet. It was
evident that the bed was up; as a further evidence of this, Mrs. Dawson
was seen to go out to the wood-pile and fill her apron with chips and
return with them.
"She's got located," remarked Slogan. "She's a-goin' to set in now an'
make 'erse'f comfortable."
"She'll burn the house down over our heads," whined Mrs. Slogan. "Oh,
Peter, I'm not satisfied! I'm anything but."
The sun went down and night came on. Mrs. Slogan began to prepare
supper, casting, the while, frequent glances at the door opening on the
passage. Peter smoked pipe after pipe without being able to come to
any definite conclusion as to how to surmount the difficulty. Suddenly
he looked over his shoulder and tapped the heel of his shoe with his
pipe.
"You'd better cook enough fer three," was what he said, "an' make more
coffee. Ef she don't he'p us drink it, we'll need it to keep us
company through the night. I know in reason 'at you won't close yore
eyes till--till we see some way out of the difficulty.
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