Part 32 (1/2)
”Wonderful! Really, you are very, very clever! But why should you go to all this trouble, when the barricade--”
”Well, you see, it's best to be on the safe side.”
”But it's absurd for you to go to all this needless work. Not that I do not appreciate your kind thought for my safety. Yet look at your hands!”
Blake hastened to put his bleeding hands behind him.
”They are no sight for a lady!” he muttered apologetically.
”Go and wash them at once, and I'll put on a dressing.”
Blake glowed with frank pleasure, yet shook his head.
”No, thank you, Miss Jenny. You needn't bother. They'll do all right.”
”You must! It would please me.”
”Why, then, of course-- But first, I want to make sure you understand fastening the door. Try the bars yourself.”
She obeyed, sliding the bars in and out until he nodded his satisfaction.
”Good!” he said. ”Now promise me you'll slide 'em fast every night.”
”If you ask it. But why?”
”I want to make perfectly safe.”
”Safe? But am I not secure with--”
”Look here, Miss Leslie; I'm not going to say anything about anybody.”
”Perhaps you had better say no more, Mr. Blake.”
”That's right. But whatever happens, you'll believe I've done my best, won't you?--even if I'm not a-- Promise me straight, you'll lock up tight every night.”
”Very well, I promise,” responded the girl, not a little troubled by the strangeness of his expression.
He turned at once, swung open the door, and went out. During supper he was markedly taciturn, and immediately afterwards went off to his bed.
That night Miss Leslie dutifully fastened herself in with all six bars.
She wakened at dawn, and hastened out to prepare Blake's breakfast, but she found herself too late. There were evidences that he had eaten and gone off before dawn. The stretching frame of one of the antelope skins had been moved around by the fire, and on the smooth inner surface of the hide was a laconic note, written with charcoal in a firm, bold hand:--
”_Exploring inland. Back by night, if can_.”
She bit her lip in her disappointment, for she had planned to show him how much she appreciated his absurd but well-meant concern for her safety. As it was, he had gone off without a word, and left her to the questionable pleasure of a _tete-a-tete_ with Winthrope. Hoping to avoid this, she hurried her preparations for a day on the cliff. But before she could get off, Winthrope sauntered up, hiding his yawns behind a hand which had regained most of its normal plumpness. His eye was at once caught by the charcoal note.
”Ah!” he drawled; ”really now, this is too kind of him to give us the pleasure of his absence all day!”
”Ye-es!” murmured Miss Leslie. ”Permit me to add that you will also have the pleasure of my absence. I am going now.”