Cheer up, Moira! Cherries are ripe, or at
any rate they soon will be; and if you'll just cease shedding the
scalding and listen to me, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll advance
you two months' salary for--well, you'll need a lot of clothes and
things in Sequoia that you don't need here. And I'm glad I've managed
to settle the McTavish hash without kicking up a row and hurting your
feelings. Poor old Mac! I'm sorry I can't bear with him, but we
simply have to have the logs, you know."
He rose, stooped, and pinched her ear; for had he not known her since
childhood, and had they not gathered huckleberries together in the
long ago? She was sister to him--just another one of his problems--
and nothing more. "Report on the job as soon as possible, Moira," he
called to her from the gate. Then the gate banged behind him, and
with a smile and a debonair wave of his hand, he was striding down
the little camp street where the dogs and the children played in the
dust.
After a while Moira walked to the gate and leaning upon it, looked
down the street toward the log-landing where Bryce was ragging the
laggard crew into some thing like their old-time speed. Presently the
locomotive backed in and coupled to the log tram, and when she saw
Bryce leap aboard and seat himself on a top log in such a position
that he could not fail to see her at the gate, she waved to him.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174