Part 4 (2/2)
”Wouldn't you trust me, if I gave you my word to wait for you?”
”The word of--”
”A thief,” she finished. ”All right. I'm in no hurry. What are you going to do?”
”We'll wait here until some one comes along.”
”Then let's go back to the trees while we wait,” she proposed, climbing out of the car and taking a small box from the seat.
”Didn't Bender have one tiny good word for me?” she asked as they sat down in the welcome shade.
”He said stealing was the only offense you'd been up for, and he guessed you couldn't help it. What was your little game in making him think you were stupid?”
”Did he say I was? Horrid thing! I'm glad I put one over on him and lifted this,” and she held up the box.
”What is it?” he demanded sternly.
”His supper. A peroxided wife brought it to him--just before he presented me to you. It'll come in handy now, or won't you partake of stolen goods?”
”I'll pay him for it the next time I see him.”
”Shucks, Kurt! You got such a bad bargain when you drew me, you ought to have something thrown in. It's all done up in a nice napkin--looks as if it would taste good. Oh, what a feast! Pork sandwiches, deviled eggs, dills, a keep-hot bottle of coffee, layer cake and pie. Bender knew how to pick a partner. What shall we drink out of?”
He produced a drinking cup, poured some coffee in it and handed it to her.
”Thank you,” she said. ”Shall we make it a loving cup, Kurt?”
He ignored her question and plunged greedily into a pork sandwich. He had had so much business in town that day, he had taken no time to eat.
The girl partook of Bender's pilfered luncheon sparingly and without zest.
”Aren't you hungry?” he asked her presently, his temper disappearing as his appet.i.te was appeased.
”No; it's a long time since I've been hungry.”
”What did you steal this food for then?”
”I don't know. Yes, I do. It was because that Bender woman gave me such a once-over, and decided I was the sc.u.m of the earth. Is that the way your topside tavern woman will look at me?”
”No;” he replied earnestly. ”She's made a woman out of worse than you.”
”Thanks!” she said, folding the napkin neatly. ”I thought you had my number for the worst ever. It's wonderful what food will do for a man.
Hope she will let me stay at the top of the hill while I get an appet.i.te.
The doctor said I didn't need medicine--just the right kind of food, rest and good air. I wouldn't have got them, maybe, but for you, and I suppose I haven't been very grateful.”
Her tone was low and wistful. A look she hadn't seen before--a kindly, sympathetic look--leapt to his eyes and softened the harshness of his features.
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