I don't care if he is my father. Sometimes I don't like
him a bit."
Neither did Percival. It was strange how the common antagonism drew
them together. He was about to ask for further details when the old
Peppermint Lady scurried past and, seeing them, turned back to impart
the burning news that Bird Island was in sight.
"Yes," said Percival, shamelessly, "we have seen it."
"He doesn't know me if he thinks I'll give in," went on Bobby where she
had left off. "I am just as stubborn as he is."
"There, now, I shouldn't talk about it if it made me cry," advised
Percival, patting her shoulder.
"But I've got to talk to somebody," she said almost savagely. "What did
he give me to the Fords for if he didn't think they were good enough?
Pa Joe's as good as he is any day in the week."
"Who is Pa Joe?" asked Percival, groping in the dark.
"He's the darlingest old man in the world, and he owns the best cattle
ranch in Wyoming. Anybody'll tell you so. He's been a real father to me,
and the boys are real brothers--at least three of them are. They are
just as good as anybody that ever lived, I don't care what the captain
says."
There was another passionate burst of tears, and Percival had just
succeeded in stemming the tide when the Scotchman bore down upon them.
"I beg your pardon, but did you know we were passing Bird Island?" he
asked them.
"Yes," said Percival, hastily getting up and piloting him safely past.
"As a matter of fact, some one was just asking for you in the
smoking-room.
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