The Fur Bringers. Footner Hulbert

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СКАЧАТЬ a step forward, and a vein in his forehead stood out. She held her ground disdainfully.

      "Don't do that!" he whispered. "It's not fair! I—I can't stand it!"

      "Why must you tell me?" asked Colina. "What do you expect?"

      "You!" he whispered hoarsely. "If God is good to me! For life."

      "You are mad!" she murmured.

      "Maybe," he said, eying her with the resentment which is so closely akin to love; "but I think you understand my madness. Talking gets us nowhere. A dozen times to-day your eyes answered mine. Either you feel it too or you are a coquette!"

      This brought a genuine anger to Colina's aid. Her weakness fled. "How dare you!" she cried with blazing eyes.

      "Coquette!" he repeated doggedly. "To dress yourself up like that to drive me mad!"

      Colina forgot the social amenities. "You fool!" she cried. "This is my ordinary way of dressing at night! It is not for you!"

      "It was for me!" he said sullenly. "You were happy when you saw its effect on me! If it's only a game I can't play it with you. It means too much to me!"

      "Coquette!" still made a clangor in Colina's brain that deafened her to everything else. "You are a savage!" she cried. "I'm sorry I asked you here. You needn't wait for my father to come back. Go!"

      "Not without a plain answer!" he said.

      Colina tried to laugh; she was too angry. "My answer is no!" she cried with outrageous scorn. "Now go!"

      He stood studying her from under lowering brows. The sight of her like that—head thrown back, eyes glittering, cheeks scarlet, and lips curled—was like a lash upon his manhood. The answer was plain enough, but an instinct from the great mother herself bade him disregard it. Suddenly his eyes flamed up.

      "You beauty!" he cried.

      Before she could move he had seized her in her finery. Colina was no weakling, but within those steely arms she was helpless. She strained away her head. He could only reach her neck, under the ear. She yielded shudderingly.

      "I hate you! I hate you!" she murmured.

      Their lips met.

      Colina swayed ominously on his arm. She sank down on the sofa, still straining away from him, but weakly. Suddenly she burst into passionate weeping.

      "What have you done to me!" she murmured.

      At sight of the tears he collapsed. "Ah, don't!" he whispered brokenly. "You break my heart! My darling love! What is the matter?"

      "I am a fool—a fool!—a fool!" she sobbed tempestuously. "To have given in to you! You will despise me!"

      He slipped to the floor at her feet. He strove desperately to comfort her. Tenderness lent eloquence to his clumsy, unaccustomed tongue.

      "Ah, don't say that! It's like sticking a knife in me! My lovely one! As if I could! You are everything to me! I have nothing in the world but you! Forgive me for being so rough! I couldn't help it! I couldn't go by anything you said. I had to find out for sure! It had to happen! What does it matter whether it was in a day or a year? The minute I saw you I knew how it was. I knew I had to have you or live like a priest till I died."

      Colina was not to be comforted. "You think so now!" she said. "Later, when you have tired of me a little, or if we quarreled, you would remember that I—I was too easily won!"

      "Ah, don't!" he cried exasperated. "If you say it again I'll have to swear. What more can I say? I love you like my life! I could not despise you without despising myself! I don't know how to put it. I sound like a fool! But—but this is what I mean. You make me seem worth while to myself."

      Colina's hands stole to her breast. "Ah! If I could believe you!" she breathed.

      "Give me time!" he begged. "What good does talking do! What I do will show you!"

      Little by little she allowed him to console her. Her arm stole around his shoulders, her head was lowered until her cheek lay in his hair.

      They came down to earth. Ambrose seated himself beside her, and looking in her shamed face laughed softly and deep. "You fraud," he said.

      Colina hid her face. "Don't!" she begged.

      He laughed more.

      "What are you laughing at?" she demanded.

      "To think how you scared me," he said. "With your grand clothes and high and mighty airs. I had to dig my toes into the floor to keep from cutting and running. And it was all bluff!"

      "Scared you!" said Colina. "I never in my life knew a man so utterly regardless and brutal!"

      "You like it," he said. Colina blushed.

      "I had no line to go on," said Ambrose with his engaging simplicity. "I never made love to any girls. I haven't read many books either. I guess that's all guff, anyway. I didn't know how the thing ought to be carried through. But something told me if I knuckled under to you the least bit it would be all day with Ambrose."

      They laughed together.

      John Gaviller's step sounded on the porch outside. They sprang up aghast. They had completely forgotten his existence.

      "Oh, Heavens!" whispered Colina. "He has eyes like a lynx!"

      Ambrose's eyes, darting around the room, fell upon an album of snapshots lying on the table. He flung it open.

      When Gaviller came in he found them standing at the table, their backs to him. He heard Ambrose ask:

      "Who is that comical little guy?"

      Colina replied: "Ahcunazie, one of the Kakisa Indians in his winter clothes."

      Colina turned, presenting a sufficiently composed face to her father. "Oh," she said. "You were gone a long while. What was the matter with the bull?"

      She strolled to the sofa and sat down. Ambrose idly closed the book and sat down across the room from her. Gaviller glanced from one to another—perhaps it was a little too well done. But his face instantly resumed its customary affability.

      "Nothing serious," he said. "He is quite all right again."

      Ambrose was tormented by the desire to laugh. He dared not meet Colina's eye. "It is terrible to lose a valuable animal up here," he said demurely.

      After a few desultory polite exchanges Ambrose got up to go. "I was waiting to say good night to you," he explained.

      "You are camping down the river, I believe."

      "Half a mile below the English mission. I paddled up."

      "I'll walk to the edge of the bank with you," said Gaviller politely.

      As in nearly all company posts there was a flag-pole in the most conspicuous spot on the river-bank. It was halfway between Gaviller's house СКАЧАТЬ