“You’ll be all right now,” he said at last, when it seemed she would never speak up, “and I’m glad you found your father. He’ll go back with you now and take a fall out of Blount and–well, you won’t feel so poor, any more.”
“Yes, I will,” returned Virginia, suddenly rousing up and looking at him with haggard eyes. “I’ll always feel poor, because if I gave you back all I had it wouldn’t be a tenth of what you lost.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” grumbled Wiley. “I don’t care about the money. Are they hunting me for murder, or what?”
“Oh, no; not for anything!” she answered eagerly. “You’ll come back, won’t you, Wiley? Mother was watching you through her glasses, and she says George fired first. They aren’t trying to arrest you; all they want you to do is to give up and stand a brief trial. And I’ll help you, Wiley; 289oh, I’ve just got to do something or I’ll be miserable all my life!”
“You’re tired now,” said Wiley. “It’ll look different, pretty soon; and–well, I don’t think I’ll go in, right now.”
“But where will you go?” she entreated piteously. “Oh, Wiley, can’t you see I’m sorry? Why can’t you forgive me and let me try to make amends, instead of making both our lives so miserable?”
“I don’t know,” answered Wiley. “It’s just the way I feel. I’ve got nothing againstyou; I just want to get away and forget a few things that you’ve done.”
“And then?” she asked, and he smiled enigmatically.
“Well, maybe you’ll forget me, too.”
“But Father!” she objected as he rose up suddenly and started off down the creek. “He thinks we’re lovers, you know.” Wiley stopped and the cold anger in his eyes gave way to a look of doubt. “Why not pretend we are?” she suggested wistfully. “Not really, but just before him. I told him we’d quarreled–and he knows I followed after you. Just to-day, Wiley; and then you can go. But if my father should think─”