r here?" and he placed a possessive hand on
the back of the chair that was meant for Bud.
"No, Mister West, you jest set where you ben settin'," responded Mrs.
Tanner. She had thought the matter all out and decided that the minister
could converse with the teacher to the better advantage of the whole
table if he sat across from her. Mrs. Tanner was a born match-maker.
This she felt was an opportunity not to be despised, even if it sometime
robbed the Ridge School of a desirable teacher.
But West did not immediately return to his place at the other side of
the table. To Margaret's extreme annoyance he drew her chair and waited
for her to sit down. The situation, however, was somewhat relieved of
its intimacy by a sudden interference from Cap, who darted away from his
frowning master and stepped up authoritatively to the minister's side
with a low growl, as if to say:
"Hands off that chair! That doesn't belong to you!"
West suddenly released his hold on the chair without waiting to shove
it up to the table, and precipitately retired to his own place. "That
dog's a nuisance!" he said, testily, and was answered with a glare from
Bud's dark eyes.
Bud came to his seat with his eyes still set savagely on the minister,
and Cap settled down protectingly behind Margaret's chair.
Mrs. Tanner bustled in with the coffee-pot, and Mr. Tanner came last,
having just finished his rather elaborate hair-comb at the kitchen glass
with the kitchen comb, in full view of the assembled multitude. He was a
little, thin, wiry, weather-beaten man, with skin like leather and
sparse hair. Some of his teeth were missing, leaving deep hollows in his
cheeks, and his kindly protruding chin was covered with scraggy gray
whiskers, which stuck out ahead of him like a cow-catcher. He was in his
shirt-sleeves and collarless, but looked neat and clean, and he greeted
the new guest heartily before he sat down, and nodded to the minister:
"Naow, Brother West, I reckon we're ready fer your part o' the
performance. You'll please to say grace."
Mr. West bowed his sleek, yellow head and muttered a formal blessing
with an offhand manner, as if it were a mere ceremony. Bud stared
contemptuously at him the while, and Cap uttered a low rumble as of a
distant growl. Margaret felt a sudden desire to laugh, and tried to
control herself, wondering what her father would feel about it all.
The genial clatter of knives and forks broke the stiffness after the
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