“Teeters,” in sudden decision, “I’m going up to see her. She may need us.”
“But isn’t it dangerous?” Mrs. Rathburn protested.
“Not unless he’s mistook for one of the Outfit, then they might try a chunk of lead on him,” Teeters reassured her.
Miss Rathburn, having recovered her poise together with her drawl, was regarding the high luster on her nails when Disston came up on the porch before leaving.
“I am sorry I was rude, Beth,” he said earnestly.
“Were you?” indifferently. “I hadn’t noticed it.”
“I did a contemptible thing to that girl once,” he continued, “and I feel that the least I can do to make amends is to refuse to allow her to be spoken of slightingly in my presence.”
“Quite right, Hughie. You are a credit to our southern chivalry.” Miss Rathburn suppressed a yawn with the tips of her pink tapering fingers.
“When I come back,” he spoke propitiatingly, “the day after to-morrow, probably we’ll go and see that petrified tree of which Teeters told us.”
“A lovely bribe,” languidly, “but don’t hurry, for mother and I are leaving to-morrow.”