“But it would not have mended matters at all,” said Pam with an impatient sigh. “I wanted Galena to be willing to take Reggie Furness back to work there when he is well enough, but she has got such an impossible attitude with regard to a wrongdoer. Because a person has once done the thing which is not square she will never trust that person again. She knows she is not perfect herself, and yet she expects perfection in everyone else.”
“That is the stand most folks take,” he answered with a short laugh. “Self-blindness, I call it, and as a rule the more they shout about the weaknesses of other people the more disposed they are to the same infirmity themselves. But Galena is a good sort at the bottom, and she will very likely turn things over in her mind a bit when she has had a little time. I guess Nathan is more than a little cross with me. He wanted his supper about as much as it is possible for a man to want anything, and I kept him out in the barn, asking him questions about every imaginable thing, from moose-calling to the best and quickest way of plucking chickens. I helped him feed his horses, though, and he said he hated that business worse than anything he had to do all day. He said it made him real bad to see the creatures stuffing their noses into the food and having such a good time, while he felt like sinking into his boots with hunger. Then I reminded him that he would soon have the boy back to get supper ready for his horses, so he cheered up a bit, although he did mention that Galena might have something to say on the subject.”
“Oh, it was good of you to put in a word for Reggie like that. If Nathan feels he wants the boy back so badly, Galena may have to give way.” There was a catch in Pam’s voice, for she was feeling this affair very keenly. Reggie was having to suffer for his vindication of her grandfather, and so it became very much of a personal matter to her.
The colt was spanking along at a fine pace. The trail was very good just at this part, and Don’s high-wheeled cart went bumping and swaying along under the shade of the birches and the hemlocks while the level rays of the setting sun lay in bars of gold across the heavy green foliage. In another ten or fifteen minutes they would be at Ripple, and Don’s golden evening would be over. It was not wonderful that he wanted to make the most of it while it lasted.
“I am a bit jealous of that boy Reggie. You seem to have no time to think of anyone else,” he ventured, greatly daring, and Pam turned to him with a look of astonishment.
“What else could we do but think of him, seeing how ill he has been?” she demanded; then added with a laugh: “Besides, he is not the sort to remain in the background at any time. He has been teaching me all sorts of things about the wild life of the forest, and telling me about racoons and minks and beavers. He told me that there is a beaver meadow about seven miles across the forest from here, and he is going to take me to see it some day when he is stronger.”
“I will drive you over. It is too far for you to walk, and the trail is rough,” said Don. Then, finding his golden minutes fleeting faster than ever, he burst out in impulsive speech: “I have loved you ever since that night you stopped us on the trail to ask the way to Ripple, and there isn’t a thing I would not do to please you, if you would let me.”
Pam looked keenly distressed.
“Oh, please, don’t!” she said, clasping her hands tightly and feeling that she would love to run away.
But Don, having once started, was not to be easily stopped.