She made room for him in silence, her eyes straight ahead. The wagon cover made good screen behind, the herdsmen were far in the rear, and from the wagons ahead none could see them. Yet when, after a moment, her affianced husband dropped an arm about her waist the girl flung it off impatiently.
"Don't!" she exclaimed. "I detest love-making in public. We see enough of it that can't be hid. It's getting worse, more open, the farther we get out."
"The train knows we are to be married at the halfway stop, Molly. Then you'll change wagons and will not need to drive."
[pg 214]
"Wait till then."
"I count the hours. Don't you, dearest?"
She turned a pallid face to him at last, resentful of his endearments.
"Yes, I do," she said. But he did not know what she meant, or why she was so pale.
"I think we'll settle in Portland," he went on. "The travelers' stories say that place, at the head of navigation on the Willamette, has as good a chance as Oregon City, at the Falls. I'll practice law. The goods I am taking out will net us a good sum, I'm hoping. Oh, you'll see the day when you'll not regret that I held you to your promise! I'm not playing this Oregon game to lose it."