Eliot, who was sipping from his cup, almost spluttered tea over the tabletop's polished surface, a look of horror on his face.
George grinned, then winked. "Gotcha."
"George!" Laura reprimanded him.
"I'm only joking, Eliot. I knew the value of them, and I'd never have defaced such images."
His hand shaking, Eliot put his cup down. He chuckled. "You got me, all right, George. I nearly fell out of my chair."
"Eliot and I thought we'd drive over there tomorrow and take a look at them," Harlan said.
"I'll go with you, if you want," George offered. "I can show you the way."
"Thanks, but that's not necessary, Dad," Harlan said. "We're more than capable of finding the place."
George shrugged. "Fine by me, son."
A bit later, the Thickets had driven to Crawford, a flyspeck of a town a few
