eBooks Base 2000

That night, however, it was
veiled in the smoke that encompassed the great highway leading to
Excelsior. It is presumed that the Burnham brood had long since folded
their wings, for there was no sign of life nor movement in the house as
a rapidly driven horse and buggy pulled up before it. Fortunately, the
paternal Burnham was an early bird, in the habit of picking up the
first stirring mining worm, and a resounding knock brought him half
dressed to the street door. He was startled at seeing Father Wynn
before him, a trifle flushed and abstracted.
"Ah ha! up betimes, I see, and ready. No sluggards here--ha, ha!" he
said heartily, slamming the door behind him, and by a series of pokes
in the ribs genially backing his host into his own sitting-room. "I'm
up, too, and am here to see Nellie. She's here, eh--of course?" he
added, darting a quick look at Burnham.
But Mr. Burnham was one of those large, liberal Western husbands who
classified his household under the general title of "woman folk," for
the integers of which he was not responsible.


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