Part 9 (2/2)
”No; and yet grat.i.tude is not altogether satisfactory.” He hesitated.
”It is hard to explain just what I mean to you, for you do not realize the life we lead out here--the loneliness of it. Even a man in the ranks may possess the desires of a human being. I--well, I 'm hungry for the companions.h.i.+p of a good woman. Don't misunderstand, Miss McDonald. I am not presuming, nor taking advantage of the accident which has placed us in this peculiar position, but I have been a trooper out here now a long while, stationed at little isolated frontier posts, riding the great plains, doing the little routine duties of soldiering. I have n't spoken to a decent woman on terms of social equality for two years; I 've looked at a few from a distance and taken orders from them. But they have glanced through me as though I were something inanimate instead of a man. I saved an officer's life once down there,” and he pointed into the southeast, ”and his wife thanked me as though it were a disagreeable duty. I reckon you don't understand, but I don't like the word grat.i.tude.”
”But I do understand,” and she stretched out her hand to him across the opened haversack. ”I 'm not so dull, and it must be awful to feel alone like that, I told you I--I liked you, and--I do. Now remember that, please, and be good. From now on I am not Major McDonald's daughter, not even Miss McDonald--I 'm just Molly McDonald.”
The gray eyes laughed.
”You are a.s.suming a great risk.”
”I don't believe it,” her forehead wrinkling a little, but her eyes bright. ”You and I can be friends--can't we?”
”We 'll try, out here, at least. Even if the dream does n't last long, it will be pleasant to remember.”
”You do not think it will last, then?”
He shook his head.
”I would be a fool to hope; I have been in the army too long.”
They were still for a minute, the girl's fingers toying with the flap of the haversack, her eyes gazing across the river. He thought they were misty.
”I am sorry you are so prejudiced,” she said at last slowly, ”for I am not like that at all. I am not going to be ashamed of a friend because he--he is in the ranks. I shall be only the more proud. What is your full name?”
He pa.s.sed his hand over his hair, and laughed.
”They call me 'Brick' Hamlin--a subtle reference to this crown of glory.”
”But it is n't red,” she insisted swiftly. ”Only it shows a little bright with the sun on it, and I am not going to call you that. I don't like nicknames. What did they call you before you went into the army? When--when you did know good women?”
The Sergeant bent his head, and then lifted his gray eyes to the girl's face.
”I had almost forgotten,” he confessed, ”but I'll tell you--David Carter Hamlin; there, you have all of it--my mother called me Dave--could you, once?”
”Could I?” laughingly. ”Why, of course; now, Dave, we will have breakfast.”
”And I am quite ready for it--Molly.”
The girl's cheeks reddened, but their eyes met, and both laughed.
CHAPTER XI
A REMEMBRANCE OF THE PAST
Moylan must have had Miss McDonald in mind when he had stocked up with food at Fort Dodge, and had therefore chosen all the delicacies to be found at that frontier post. These were not extensive, consisting largely of canned goods, which, nevertheless, made a brave show, and were clearly enough not the ordinary fare of the border. Hamlin had to smile at the array, but Molly handled each article almost with reverence, tears dimming her eyes in memory.
”He--he bought these for me,” she said softly, and looking across reproachfully at the Sergeant. ”It was the best he could do.”
”I was not laughing at poor Moylan; only, I fear, he had a wrong conception of a girl's needs on the trail. But I reckon our combined appet.i.tes are equal to it.”
<script>