The sharp glance of Buck flitted here
and there, in ten seconds he knew everything in the room; the steady blue
eye of Lee Haines went leisurely from place to place and lingered; but both
of them stared at Kate as if they could not have enough of her. They talked
without pause while they ate. A stranger in the room would have sealed
their lips in utter taciturnity, but here they sat with a friend, five
months of loneliness and labor behind them, and they gossiped like girls.
Into the jangle of talk cut a thin, small voice from outside, a burst of
laughter. Then: "Bart, you silly dog!" and Joan stood at the open door with
her hand buried in the mane of the wolf-dog. The fork of Buck Daniels
stopped halfway to his lips and Lee Haines straightened until the chair
groaned.
They spoke together, hushed voices: "Kate!"
"Come here, Joan!" Her face glistened with pride, and Joan came forward
with wide eyes, tugging Black Bart along in a reluctant progress.
"It ain't possible!" whispered Buck Daniels. "Honey, come here and shake
hands with your Uncle Buck.
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