THE sunlight got in Uncle William’s eyes. He looked up from the map spread on the table before him. Then he got up slowly and crossed to the window and drew down the turkey-red curtain—a deep glow filled the room. Juno, on the lounge, stirred a little and stretched her daws, and drew them in and tucked her head behind them and went on sleeping. Uncle William returned to his map. His big finger found a dotted line and followed it slowly up the table with little mumbles of words.... The room was very still—only the faintest whisper of a breeze came across the harbor—and Uncle William’s head bent over the map and traveled with his finger.... “They ’d run in here, like enough, and...”…
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