WAR
Yes, says Dave, and yes, says I. But I don't think either of us understood that like dear old Jonthy did.
The idea didn't occur to me until I saw it accidentally, some time after—that there was now a clear space between Crider and us! He could see our chimley-tops. From our garret window I could see his. And even then I didn't know what to do with the idea.
But Jon did.
He said that since our quarrel, about which I had told him, Crider was angry. He was a bad man to have against one, and had got even by doing for us what we had thought suspicious when he did it for himself.
"Yes," I says, "that's just it—the fire-wood business— Well, I'll let him know about it maybe with a club!—right off the old tree!"
"No, no," laughs Jon. "No fighting just now. No more enemies than we must make. Keep the peace, daddy, so that we keep our heads," laughs Jon. "We need 'em now—and
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