Fifteen minutes passed, a half hour; no more indication of the mole.
"He's here yet," Joe whispered. "We gotta wait. Here gimme, that lantern."
Joe placed it on the ground so. they could see. Then he lowered his axe and stood by, relaxing for the first time. Taylor had been partly amused by this performance, but as he saw the seriousness with which Joe confronted this comparatively trivial damage to his seedlings his interest was thoroughly aroused.
"I reckon mebby we could set down," Joe whispered and dragged a cracker box toward the lantern. "We'll watch an' we'll sure slay him, th' first move he makes!"
In his plan he was including Taylor, on whom he had always looked with scorn!
John settled himself with a fresh pipe, and Joe sat beside him, silent, eyes on the damaged bed, axe in his hands. Twice he started up sharply; once he rose and stood crouched over the place, axe upraised, ready to strike, holding his breath; then sank to the box with a muttered curse.
He looked at Taylor closely, for a long moment; then down at the axe, and something like chagrin flickered in his eyes.
"Anybody who didn't have good sense 'uld think a feller was crazy to carry on like this," he said, straightening a leg, and again looking at the mighty weapon with which he had planned to kill the small rodent, "but these here seed was special selected an' we can't let no damned mole spoil our work."
John sensed that Joe feared he might be making himself absurd and wanted to avoid that impression at any cost.
