her son, who, on his feet now, wrapped in a muffler of Piers's, his small nose blue, was in imminent danger from cars, dogs, men, and the excited racings of Wake.
How Finch wished he were going!
He stood curved like the new moon, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind, watching with a wistful grin the fascinating activities of the hunters.
Piers was passing him with a pointer on a lead, when he stopped abruptly and stared at him. The grin faded from Finch's face. He stiffened, expecting a sneer. Piers said: "Why don't you come along?"
Finch returned pleasantly: "Yes, I see myself!"
"I'm in earnest. It'd do those fool nerves of yours good. Set you up for the winter." He called to Renny, who was peering suspiciously into the engine of his motor. "Why don't you let young Finch come? He might be of some use."
"He'd be more likely to put a shot into one of us! He's never been. Why take him?"
"Why not?" persisted Piers. "Look at him! He'll never live to enjoy his money if he goes on like this. He's all legs and nose."
The two surveyed him. Finch giggled distraughtly, feeling himself to be dangling in mid-air.
"Very well," agreed Renny, laconically. "But don't waste any time getting ready."
Finch flew toward the house.
"Why, he's as keen as mustard," said Piers, approvingly.
"Me, too!" clamoured Wake. "I want to go!"
Piers tried to quiet him by standing him on his head, but the moment he was released he got into the car and established himself on the dunnage bag, whence he had to be forcibly ejected.
"Do you know," he said, tears in his eyes, looking up into Renny's face, "that I have never been anywhere in my life?"
"You can't come." Renny took out some silver and put two fifty-cent pieces into the little boy's hand. "Try to have a good time on this."
