It was as
though the young man--with his return to the home ranch and to the Dean
and their talks and plans for the work--again put himself, his personal
convictions and his peculiar regard for Patches, aside, and became the
unprejudiced foreman, careful for his employer's interests.
Patches very quickly, but without offense, found that the door, which
his friend had opened in the long dark hours of that lonely night ride,
had closed again; and, thinking that he understood, he made no attempt
to force his way. But, for some reason, Patches appeared to be in an
unusually happy frame of mind, and went singing and whistling about the
corrals and buildings as though exceedingly well pleased with himself
and with the world.
The following day was Sunday. In the afternoon, Patches was roaming
about the premises, keeping at a safe distance from the walnut trees in
front of the house, where the professor had cornered the Dean, thus
punishing both Patches and his employer by preventing one of their long
Sunday talks which they both so much enjoyed. Phil had gone off
somewhere to be alone, and Mrs. Baldwin was reading aloud to Little
Billy.
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