“Yes，“ourfriendShortymurmuredpregnantly，withhiseyeuponthequietVirginian，“he’ssurestudyinghisrevenge。“
“Studyingyourpussy-cat，“saidScipio。“Heknowswhathe’lldo。
Thetime’ain’tarrived。“Thiswasthewaytheyfeltaboutit；
andnotunnaturallythiswasthewaytheymademe，theinexperiencedEasterner，feelaboutit。ThatTrampasalsofeltsomethingaboutitwaseasytoknow。Liketheleavenwhichleavensthewholelump，onespotofsulkinessincampwillspreaditsdullflavorthroughanycompanythatsitsnearit；andwehadtositnearTrampasatmealsforninedays。
Hissullennesswasnotwonderful。Tofeelhimselfforsakenbyhisrecentadherents，toseethemgoneovertohisenemy，couldnothavemadehisreflectionspleasant。Whyhedidnottakehimselfofftootherclimes——“pullhisfreightcasual，“asScipiosaid——I