Part 32 (2/2)

”But you mean to go back to Lancas.h.i.+re, and when you marry your wife ought----”

”To begin with, I doubt if the police will allow me to go back. Then, if I can't get you, I don't want a wife!”

”Yet, not very long since, it looked as if you might be satisfied with Miss Stannard.”

The blood came to Jimmy's skin, and to conquer his embarra.s.sment was hard.

”I don't think you're kind. Well, I'm young and, until I met Stannard, I was very raw. All I knew was the cotton mill, and I expect Laura carried me away. But I was not altogether a fool; Laura Stannard is a charming girl. The obstacle was, she saw I was not the man for her. Then I did not know you.”

Margaret smiled, but her smile was gentle. ”Perhaps I was not kind.

You're stanch and my experiment was shabby.”

”Your remark was justified. Anyhow, it's not important. If I can cheat the police and get back to Lancas.h.i.+re, will you marry me, Margaret?”

For a few moments Margaret was quiet. Then she said in a steady voice: ”Your cheating the police would not persuade me; in fact, somehow I think they will find out you had nothing to do with the warden's getting shot. The obstacle's not there. You are young, Jimmy, and you admitted you were carried away.”

”One cannot carry you away,” Jimmy rejoined.

”I must think for you and for myself,” said Margaret and Jimmy's heart beat, because he saw her calm was forced. ”Suppose your trustees did not approve your marrying a girl from the bush?”

”d.i.c.k Leyland might not approve; his habit's to be nasty, but mine's not to bother about d.i.c.k. Sir Jim is head of the house and he's human. I can't picture his not being altogether satisfied with you.”

”But you don't know!”

Jimmy pondered. Margaret's firmness baffled him, but, from her point of view, he saw she took the proper line. All the same, it cost her something; she was highly strung, her color came and went, and her tight mouth was significant. The trouble was, he dared not urge her very hard. In the meantime, he must hide from the police and might be sent to the chain-gang.

”I want you, my dear,” he said. ”I'm selfish. If you marry me, I run no risk, but you may run some. My drawbacks are rather numerous, particularly just now.”

”Very well,” said Margaret. ”When you come back from the mountains, I may perhaps agree. But your relations must approve and I don't yet engage----”

Jimmy advanced, but she stepped back and stopped him. Then he turned and saw Mrs. Jardine wave to them from the stoop.

Dinner was a melancholy function, and Jimmy thought his hosts disturbed.

They were Margaret's relations and for her sake were willing to help, but he pictured Mrs. Jardine's weighing the risk. Then he was bothered about Margaret, for Peter's confidence that his wife could bluff the police if they arrived before he returned did not banish his doubts.

At length Mrs. Jardine got up and Peter and Jimmy went to load the horse. By and by the rancher ran back for some tobacco and Jimmy moodily fastened the pack-rope. Stooping by the horse, he thought he heard a step, but did not look up, and a few moments afterwards he felt a hand on his shoulder. Then an arm went around his neck and Margaret turned his head and kissed him. He tried to seize her, but she slipped away and stopped a yard or two off. Jimmy thrilled and his eyes sparkled.

”Now I know when I come back you won't refuse me.”

”You don't know; I don't know,” Margaret replied in a trembling voice.

”All the same, I love you, and you're going away----”

Peter and Mrs. Jardine came out. The rancher seized the bridle and called to the horse. Jimmy lifted his battered hat and they started across the clearing.

Three days afterwards, they stopped at a small stone hut, built against the bottom of a great rock. On one side dark pines rolled up to the walls, and a hundred yards off one could hardly see the pile of stones was a building. Yet the small room was rudely furnished and the earth floor was dry. They cut some wood, made a fire, and cooked food, and after the meal lighted their pipes.

”You have got an ax and a rifle, but if you run out of grub, Graham, the section-hand on the railroad will put me wise,” said Peter. ”Tom's a white man and his post's not far from the spot we crossed the line. The trapper who lived here is dead and I reckon n.o.body but Tom and me knows about the shack.”

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