Said that those sort of love-sick
fools made more fuss over little things than they did over big things,
and he sort of toned it down, and fixed it up himself. But it told. For
there were never any more letters in the post-office in her handwriting,
and there wasn't any posted to her in his."
They both laughed again, and then Steptoe rose. "I must be getting
along," he said, looking curiously at the boy. "I've got to catch a
train at Three Boulders Station."
"Three Boulders!" repeated the boy. "I'm going there, too, on Friday, to
meet Father Cipriano."
"I reckon my work will be all done by Friday," said Steptoe musingly.
Standing thus, holding his boy's hand, he was thinking that the real
fight at Marshall's would not take place at once, for it might take a
day or two for Marshall to gather forces. But he only pressed his son's
hand gently.
"I wish you would sometimes take me with you as you used to," said the
boy curiously. "I'm bigger now, and wouldn't be in your way."
Steptoe looked at the boy with a choking sense of satisfaction and
pride. But he said, "No;" and then suddenly with simulated humor, "Don't
you be taken in by any letters from ME, such as you and Van Loo used to
write. You hear?"
The boy laughed.
"And," continued Steptoe, "if anybody says I sent for you, don't you
believe them."
"No," said the boy, smiling.
"And don't you even believe I'm dead till you see me so.
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