"But nothin' to compare to the work you'd see in the attic. That'll give you somethin' worth talkin' about. Ain't you goin' to go up?"
"I don't want to risk my neck on that ladder, for one thing. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have to round up the boys."
He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him.
"Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp.
The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved.
"Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They seem to be sort of waitin' for you, Dozier."
The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man.
"Thanks," he said shortly and strode away.
Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have aged again.
"Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?"
"I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me."
"But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see him right off?"
"Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on it. Only when he seen I didn't' care, he made up his mind he didn't want to see that attic."
"And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud.
