The other man seemed to catch it and reflect it in their own faces as they stared at him.
Eugene turned quickly to his father.

"Aren't they in the house ?" he asked.
"No, they ain't," returned David, with his eyes still on Abner's face.
"Sure they ain't up chamber ?" "No; I was home a good half-hour before Madelon came.

There wasn't a soul in the house, and nobody could have come home since without my knowing it." "They didn't come home this noon either," said Eugene.
"Thought you said they'd gone to see to their traps on West Mountain ?" David rejoined.
"Thought they had when they didn't come." Eugene turned impatiently on Abner.

"Where do you think they've gone--what do you mean by looking so ?" he cried.
Abner dug his heel into the snow.

"Don't know," he returned, in a surly voice.
"What do you suspect, then?
Good God! can't you speak out ?" Abner's features were heavier than his brother's--his speech and manner slower.