"I'm going after the boys, Chip.

You better come along and see if you can pick up the Kid's trail where he left the road.

It's too bad Florence Grace Hallman ain't a man! I'd know better what to do if she was." "Oh, do you think-- ?" Miss Rosemary looked at him wide-eyed.
"Doggone it, if she's tried any of her schemes with fire and--why, doggone it, being a woman ain't going to help her none!" The Old Man, also, seemed to grasp the meaning of it almost as quickly as had Andy.
"Chip, you have Ole hitch up the team.

I'm going to town myself, by thunder, and see if she's going to play any of her tricks on this outfit and git away with it! Burnt out half her doggoned colony tryin' to git a whack at you boys! Where's my shoes?
Doggone it, what yuh all standin' round with your jaws hangin' down for?
We'll see about this fire-settin' and this--where's them shoes ?" The Countess found his shoes, and his hat, and his second-best coat and his driving gloves which he had not worn for more months than anyone cared to reckon.

Miss Rosemary Allen did what she could to help, and wondered at the dominant note struck by this bald old man from the moment when he rose stiffly from his big chair and took the initiative so long left to others.
While the team was being made ready the Old Man limped here and there, collecting things he did not need and trying to remember what he must have, and keeping the Countess moving at a flurried trot.