Robin Hood's Barn 



rapscallion, not guessing how completely I had 

 been made to serve. 



His master gave a chuckle of derision at the 

 zealousness of my defense. It did not equal in 

 conviction Manuel's own. Could I guess what 

 the rogue had answered when he was accused of 

 sloth? I shook my head, but the appropriate 

 gesture would have been to shield my face. 



It was not the heat that he had offered as 

 excuse, not the whole back-and-forward length 

 of burning coxu-se. Such would have been reflec- 

 tion on his manly vigor. It was, so he had 

 claimed, my own impending interest that has 

 stayed his hand and clogged his wheels; the en- 

 cumbrance of what was after all a very natural 

 tribute. How could he work when I came out to 

 talk? I could imagine the explanatory shrug of 

 his broad shoulders. Certainly the full imphca- 

 tion of his grudging courtesy, his master made 

 quite clear to me with a shrewd Yankee twinkle 

 that took for granted my enjoyment of the joke. 



My quick answer was to point to where a dis- 

 tant figure in blue jeans lay stretched at length 

 beneath the tree, engaged if I might judge in 

 [192] 



