"
Belding gathered with growing amusement that besides the joy,
excitement, anxiety, impatience expressed by Mr. Gale there was
something else which Belding took for pride. It pleased him. Looking
back, he remembered some of the things Dick had confessed his
father thought of him. Belding's sympathy had always been with the
boy. But he had learned to like the old man, to find him kind
and wise, and to think that perhaps college and business had not
brought out the best in Richard Gale. The West had done that,
however, as it had for many a wild youngster; and Belding resolved
to have a little fun at the expense of Mr. Gale. So he began by
making a few remarks that appeared to rob Dick's father of both
speech and breath.
"And don't mistake me," concluded Belding, "just keep out of earshot
when Laddy tells us the story of that desert trip, unless you're
hankering to have your hair turn pure white and stand curled on
end and freeze that way."
About the middle of the forenoon on the following day the rangers
hobbled out of the kitchen to the porch.
"I'm a sick man, I tell you," Ladd was complaining, "an' I gotta be
fed. Soup! Beef tea! That ain't so much as wind to me. I want
about a barrel of bread an' butter, an' a whole platter of mashed
potatoes with gravy an' green stuff--all kinds of green stuff--an'
a whole big apple pie. Give me everythin' an' anythin' to eat but
meat. Shore I never, never want to taste meat again, an' sight
of a piece of sheep meat would jest about finish me.
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