"Certainly."
"Then I shall go with you."
"You need not. I can go very well by myself, Mr. Cameron."
Beatrice was something of a hypocrite herself.
"I shall go where duty points the way."
"I hope it points toward home, then."
"It doesn't, though. It takes the trail you take."
"I never yet allowed my wishes to masquerade as Disagreeable Duty, with
two big D's," she told him tartly, and started off.
"Say! If you're going up that hill, this is the trail. You'll bump up
against a straight cliff if you follow that path."
Beatrice turned with seeming reluctance and allowed him to guide her,
just as she had intended he should do.
"Dick tells me you have been away," she began suavely.
"Yes. I've just got back from Fort Belknap," he explained quietly,
though he must have known his absence had been construed differently.
"I've rented pasturage on the reservation for every hoof I own. Great
grass over there--the whole prairie like a hay meadow, almost, and
little streams everywhere."
"You are very fortunate," Beatrice remarked politely.
"Luck ought to come my way once in a while. I don't seem to get more
than my share, though."
"Dick will be glad to know you have a good range for your cattle, Mr.
Cameron."
"I expect he will. You may tell him, for me, that Jim Worthington--he's
the agent over there, and was in college with us--says I can have my
cattle there as long as he's running the place.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131