The water from it
had trickled down the front of her dress. Her shoes and stockings
were splashed with wet sand.
"Is dinner ready, Uncle Jed?" she asked, eagerly. Then becoming
aware that the two strange gentlemen standing by the fire were
really and truly "officer ones," she looked wide-eyed up at them
and uttered an involuntary "Oh!"
"Babbie," said Jed, "let me see that boat of yours a minute, will
you?"
Babbie obediently handed it over. Jed inspected it through his
spectacles. Then he pulled the paper sail from the sharpened
stick--the mast--unfolded it, looked at it, and then extended it at
arm's length toward Major Grover.
"That's your plan thing, ain't it?" he asked, calmly.
Both officers reached for the paper, but the younger, remembering
in time, drew back. The other took it, gave it a quick glance, and
then turned again to Mr. Winslow.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, crisply.
Jed shook his head.
"She gave it to me, this little girl here," he explained. She
wanted a sail for that shingle craft I whittled out for her.
Course if I'd had on my specs I presume likely I'd have noticed
that 'twas an out of the common sort of paper, but--I was wearin'
'em in my pants pocket just then."
"Where did you get it?" demanded Rayburn, addressing Barbara. The
child looked frightened. Major Grover smiled reassuringly at her
and she stammered a rather faint reply.
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