Sitting so for
perhaps an hour or more, and smoking all the time, he would rise, and
with a grunt, which was answered by a kindly nod, would pass out as
silently as he came.
And now as Jaspar Hume stood looking at his "Idea," Cloud-in-the-Sky
entered, let his blanket fall by the hearthstone and sat down upon it. If
Hume saw him or heard him, he at least gave no sign at first. But he said
at last in a low tone to the dog: "It is finished, Bouche; it is ready
for the world."
Then he put it back, locked the box, and turned towards Cloud-in-the-Sky
and the fireplace. The Indian grunted; the other nodded with the debating
look again dominant in his eyes. The Indian met the look with
satisfaction. There was something in Jaspar Hume's habitual reticence and
decisiveness in action which appealed more to Cloud-in-the-Sky than any
freedom of speech could possibly have done.
Hume sat down, handed the Indian a pipe and tobacco, and, with arms
folded, watched the fire. For half an hour they sat so, white man,
Indian, and dog. Then Hume rose, went to a cupboard, took out some
sealing wax and matches, and in a moment melted wax was dropping upon the
lock of the box containing his Idea.
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