or possible tender places.

There was nothing the matter with the Gray; the old horse was still
sound: but it satisfied Cully to be assured, and it satisfied, too, a
certain yearning tenderness in his heart toward his old chum. Once in
a while he would pat the Gray's neck, smoothing his ragged, half worn
mane, addressing him all the while in words of endearment expressed in
a slang positively profane and utterly without meaning except to these
two.

Suddenly Jennie's cheek flushed as she came out on the porch. Carl was
coming up the path. The young Swede was bareheaded, the short blond
curls glistening in the light; his throat was bare too, so that one
could see the big muscles in his neck. Jennie always liked him with his
throat bare; it reminded her of a hero she had once seen in a play, who
stormed a fort and rescued all the starving women.

"Da brown horse seek; batta come to stabble an' see him," Carl said,
going direct to the porch, where he stood in front of Tom, resting one
hand on his hip, his eyes never wandering from her face. He knew where
Jennie was, but he never looked.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Tom, her thoughts far away at the
moment.

"I don' know; he no eat da oats en da box."

"Will he drink?" said Tom, awakening to the importance of the
information.

"Yas; 'mos' two buckets."

"It's fever he's got," she said, turning to Pop. "I thought that
yisterday noon when I sees him a-workin'. All right, Carl; I'll be down
before I go to the board meetin'. And see here, Carl; ye'd better git
ready to go wid me. I'll start in a couple o' hours. Will it suit ye,
Gran'pop, if Carl goes with me?"--patting her father's shoulder. "If ye
keep on a-worritin' I'll hev to hire a cop to follow me round."

Carl lingered for a moment on the steps. Perhaps Tom had some further
orders; perhaps, too, Jennie would come out again. Involuntarily his eye
wandered toward the open door, and then he turned to go. Jennie's heart
sprang up in her throat. She had seen from behind the curtains the
shade of disappointment that crossed her lover's face. She could suffer
herself, but she could not see Carl unhappy. In an instant she was
beside her mother. Anything to keep Carl--she did not care what.

"Oh, Carl, will you bring the ladder so I can reach the long branches?"
she said, her quick wit helping her with a subterfuge.

Carl turned and glanced at Tom. He felt the look in her face and could
read her thoughts.