" And why would I be hiding from Master Chubb in his own kitchen?" Halt challenged. Again, Horace shrugged innocently. " Well, there was a tray of freshly made pies airing on the windowsill, wasn't there? And you're quite fond of pies, aren't you, Halt?" Halt drew himself up very straight in the saddle. " Are you accusing me of sneaking into that kitchen to steal the pies for myself? Is that it?" His voice and body language simply reeked of injured dignity." Of course not, Halt!" Horace hurried to assure him, and Halt's stiff-shouldered form relaxed a little." I just thought I'd give you the opportunity to confess," Horace added. "