“Blazes is following on with the cart, Mac,” he said. “Now, Miss Lincoln, I’ll be off and fling my weight into the assault on the trees.”
“Why did you send him for me, uncle?” asked Ess, when Steve had gone.
Scottie looked at her. “Why no him as any o’ the others?” he said.
“And why not any of the others as well as him?” she retorted. “I only wondered at your sending him after warning me of the sort of man he was.”
“That was pairtly the reason,” replied Scottie. “I saw ye were actin’ on my judgment, an’ I thought it better to give ye a chance to hae a talk to the man an’ form yer ain opinion.”
“Well, I’m rather glad you did,” she confessed. “We had a long talk, and he certainly made no great pretensions about himself. He told me very bluntly that he knew I’d been warned against him, and that the warning was quite unnecessary, as he had no wish to fall in love with me or have me love him.”
“Talk o’ love is apt tae be a risky thing between a man an’ a maid,” said Scottie, slowly, and eyeing her closely. “It’s chancy wark, the handlin’ o’ an edged tool.”
“But better surely to know it is edged,” she said, “and to put it in a stout sheath, and bury it away. And that’s what we’ve done.”
“Well, well, ye’re old enough tae pick yer own road,” said Scottie. “An’ I’m aye within reach o’ yer signals if ye get slewed.”
A light sulky, drawn by a pair of fast trotting horses, whirled into sight from amongst the trees, and spun up to where the two were standing. “Here’s Mr. Sinclair, the boss,” said Scottie, as he approached.