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“No; well,” came the answer. “Mebbe them new seed catalogue folks cheated us, Mar,” he suggested. CHAPTER XIII.—MOSES GAINS PRESTIGE..
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Conrad
He had left his traps,—the fight had sent all else flying out of his mind. No matter. He could set them in some vineyard. Already the short grass on the hills was brown, and many of the wild flowers were past their blooming. The rabbits would be seeking the tender green of the vines, the purpling alfalfa, standing lush and sweet, ready for mowing. The last act exhausted the possibilities of the theatre in light effects and sylvan scenery; and the curtain rose on a gorgeous scene. But oh, horror! In the middle of the stage the scene-shifters had left the ugly truck that moved Storm King’s reservoir of ice and snow. When used in previous acts, bed and wheels had been hidden by moss, the tank had been covered by his mantle, and the entire mechanism, moving as he moved, had seemed a part of himself. Now its secret was disclosed and it was ridiculous. “Wartch yer team Moses,” commanded Mrs. Wopp from the back seat of the democrat. “A dose of senner tea’ll fix that, my boy,” was Mrs. Wopp’s cheerful rejoinder..
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