Part 25 (2/2)
”Don't try to guide him; he'll take you quite safely,” he called back to her. ”Let the reins hang.” And in the dusk of early morning they safely turned the curve where Harry King had fallen, never knowing the danger.
Harry King, standing in the doorway of the cabin, with the firelight bright behind him, saw them winding down the trail and hurried forward. They were almost stupefied with fatigue. He lifted the mother in his arms without a word and carried her into the cabin and laid her in the bunk, which he had prepared to receive her. He greeted Amalia with a quiet word as the big man led her in, and went out to the horses, relieved them of their burdens, and led them away to the shed by the spring. Soon the big man joined him, and began rubbing down the animals.
”I will do this. You must rest,” said Harry.
”I need none of your help,” he said, not surlily, as the words might sound, but colorlessly.
”I needed yours when I came here--or you saved me and brought me here, and now whatever you wish I'll do, but for to-night you must take my help. I'm not apologizing for what I did, because I thought it right, but--”
”Peace, man, peace. I've lived a long time with no man to gainsay me.
I'll take what comes now and thank the Lord it's no worse. We'll leave the cabin to the women, after I see that they have no fright about it, and we'll sleep in the fodder. There have been worse beds.”
”I have coffee on the hearth, hot, and corn dodgers--such as we used to make in the army. I've made them often before.”
”Turn the beasts free; there isn't room for them all in the shed, and I'll go get a bite and join you soon.”
So Harry King did not return to the cabin that night, much as he desired to see Amalia again, but lay down on the fodder and tried to sleep. His heart throbbed gladly at the thought of her safety. He had not dared to inquire after her father. Although he had seen so little of the big man he understood his mood, and having received such great kindness at his hands, he was truly sorry at the invasion of his peace. Undoubtedly he did not like to have a family, gathered from the Lord only knew where, suddenly quartered on him for none knew how long.
The cabin was only meant for a hermit of a man, and little suited to women and their needs. A mixed household required more rooms. He tried to think the matter through and to plan, but the effort brought drowsiness, and before the big man returned he was asleep.
CHAPTER XVI
A PECULIAR POSITION
”Well, young man, we find ourselves in what I call a peculiar position.”
A smile that would have been sardonic, were it not for a few lines around the corners of his eyes which belied any sinister suspicion, spread grimly across the big man's face as he stood looking down on Harry King in the dusk of the unlighted shed. The younger man rose quickly from the fodder where he had slept heavily after the fatigues of the past day and night, and stood respectfully looking into the big man's face.
”I--I--realize the situation. I thought about it after I turned in here--before you came down--or up--to this--ahem--bedroom. I can take myself off, sir. And if there were any way--of relieving you of--the--whole--embarra.s.sment,--I--I--would do so.”
”Everything's quiet down at the cabin. I've been there and looked about a bit. They had need of sleep. You go back to your bunk, and I'll take mine, and we'll talk the thing over before we see them again. As for your taking yourself off, that remains to be seen. I'm not crabbed, that's not the secret of my life alone,--though you might think it. I--ahem--ahem.” The big man cleared his throat and stretched his spare frame full length on the fodder where he had slept. With his elbow on the bed of corn stalks he lifted his head on his hand and gazed at Harry King, not dreamily as when he first saw him, but with covert keenness.
”Lie down in your place--a bit--lie down. We'll talk until we've arrived at a conclusion, and it may be a long talk, so we may as well be comfortable.”
Harry King went back to his own bunk and lay p.r.o.ne, his forehead resting on his folded arms and his face hidden. ”Very well, sir; I'll do my best. We have to accept each other for the best there is in us, I take it. You've saved my life and the life of those two women, and we all owe you our grat--”
”Go to, go to. It's not of that I'm wis.h.i.+ng to speak. Let's begin at the beginning, or, as near the beginning as we can. I've been standing here looking at you while you were sleeping,--and last night--I mean early this morning when I came up here, I--with a torch I studied your face well and long. A man betrays his true nature when he is sleeping.
The lines of what he has been thinking and feeling show then when he cannot disguise them by smiles or words. I'm old enough to be your father--yes--so it might have been--and with your permission I'll talk to you straight.”
Harry King lifted his head and looked at the other, then resumed his former position. ”Thank you,” was all he said.
”You've been well bred. You're in trouble. I ask you what is your true name and what you have done?”
The young man did not speak. He lay still as if he had heard nothing, but the other saw his hands clinch into knotted fists and the muscles of his arms grow rigid. His heart beat heavily and the blood roared in his ears. At last he lifted his head and looked back at the big man and spoke monotonously.
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