"Uh--Nothin'."
"What's in the sack?"
"I--I just borrowed three of your hens!" Sammy started to sniffle. "I
was goin' to bring 'em back tomorrow! Honest!"
"Guess I'll go back to the house," Ted said meaningfully. "When I hear
you scream, I'll know Tammie's working on you."
"No! Don't! Please don't!"
"Think you can stay out of other people's chicken coops?"
"Yes! Yes!"
Ted ordered, "All right, Tammie." The collie moved back and Ted
addressed the prostrate youth. "Get up and get out of here. If ever you
come back again, I'll just turn you over to the dog."
Sammy rose and ran into the woods. Ted returned the three indignant hens
to their roost and addressed Tammie, "I'll bet that, if ever he is found
in another chicken coop, it won't be ours. You must have scared some
sense into him."
Back in the house, Tammie sought his bearskin. Ted replaced the
flashlight and shotgun, took his shoes off and went back to bed.
Tomorrow he must go to Lorton but it needn't be bright and early
because, by Mahela standards, Lorton just didn't get up bright and
early.
Ted slept until a quarter to seven. An hour later, with Tammie on the
pickup's seat beside him, he started down the road.
He drove slowly because the business and professional offices in Lorton
wouldn't open for another hour. Coming opposite Crestwood, he saw Nels
Anderson, his former partner, working with a pick and shovel beside the
driveway. Ted eased his truck over and stopped.
"Hello, Nels."
"Py golly, Ted!" Nels' face could never reflect anything he did not
feel. "Is goot to see you!"
"It's good to see you, too. How are things?"
"We must not holler. Yah?"
"Guess it never does any good. How's the boss?"