CHAPTER VII
UPON A CARPET
THINK of it!" Carron came bursting in on the peaceful scholar, who, on his knees, was searching in one of his lowest book-shelves. The young man was hot from his ride, and excited. He had left the door aswing behind him and the sweet odor of pines had followed him. "She wants it let alone!" he almost shouted the words.
Rader looked up startled, his large blue handkerchief that he had been using as a duster grasped in one hand. "Who? What?" he murmured. He seemed taken aback at seeing Carron so exasperated, looming so directly above him.
"Your daughter! the horse! that's what she wants of it—and that's all."
The quickness with which the scholar took his meaning suggested a mind that had been dwelling on the same subject. Perhaps, between readings and writings that morning, he had recalled the yesterday's talk and had speculated on Carron's luck to-day. He was as alert as if the subject had scarcely been dropped between them.
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