Part 32 (1/2)
d.i.c.ksie's eyes opened wide. ”Let me see it. I don't think that is mine.”
”Great Heaven! Have I been carrying Marion Sinclair's pin for a month?” exclaimed McCloud. ”Well, I won't lose any time in returning it to her, at any rate.”
”Where are you going?” d.i.c.ksie's voice was faint.
”I'm going to give Marion her pin.”
”Do nothing of the sort! Come here! Give it to me.”
”d.i.c.ksie, dare you tell me, after a shock like that, it really _is_ your pin?”
”Oh, I don't know whose pin it is!”
”Why, what is the matter?”
”Give me the pin!” She put her hands unsteadily up under her hat.
”Here, for Heaven's sake, if you must have something, take this comb!”
She slipped from her head the sh.e.l.l that held her knotted hair. He caught her hand and kissed it, and she could not get it away.
”You are dear,” murmured d.i.c.ksie, ”if you are silly. The reason I wouldn't let you ride home with me is because I was afraid you might get shot. How do you suppose I should feel if you were killed? Or don't you think I have any feeling?”
”But, d.i.c.ksie, is it all right?”
”How do I know? What do you mean? I will not let you ride home with me, and you _will_ not let me ride home alone. Tie Jim again. I am going to stay with Marion all night.”
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
THE LAUGH OF A WOMAN
Within an hour, Marion, working over a hat in the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g-room, was startled to hear the cottage door open, and to see d.i.c.ksie quite unconcernedly walk in. To Marion's exclamation of surprise she returned only a laugh. ”I have changed my mind, dear. I am going to stay all night.”
Marion kissed her approvingly. ”Really, you are getting so sensible I shan't know you, d.i.c.ksie. In fact, I believe this is the most sensible thing you were ever guilty of.”
”Glad you think so,” returned d.i.c.ksie dryly, unpinning her hat. ”I certainly hope it is. Mr. McCloud persuaded me it wasn't right for me to ride home alone, and I knew better than he what danger there was for him in riding home with me--so here I am. He is coming over for supper, too, in a few minutes.”
When McCloud arrived he brought with him a porterhouse steak, and Marion was again driven from the kitchen. At the end of an hour, d.i.c.ksie, engrossed over the broiler, was putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the steak, and McCloud, more engrossed, was watching her, when a diffident and surprised-looking person appeared in the kitchen doorway and put his hand undecidedly on the casing. While he stood, d.i.c.ksie turned abruptly to McCloud.
”Oh, by the way, I have forgotten something! Will you do me a favor?”
”Certainly! Do you want money or a pa.s.s?”
”No, not money,” said d.i.c.ksie, lifting the steak on her forks, ”though you might give me a pa.s.s.”
”But I should hate to have you go away anywhere----”
”I don't want to go anywhere, but I never had a pa.s.s, and I think it would be kind of nice to have one just to keep. Don't you?”
”Why, yes; you might put it in the bank and have it drawing interest.”