"But he doesn't want me to go home until I've finished this school up here. I'm earning fifty dollars a month. How much are you?"
"A hundred," replied McCullen. "But, look a-here, your father said that, but he'd be mighty glad to have you drop in on him one o' these times. He's the sorriest father you ever seen!"
"But I shall stay, Jim, just as long as there is school here," said Hope decidedly. "So don't you try to get me to go home. Everyone else is. Sydney all the time, then Larry O'Hara. I'm glad he's gone over to camp with the soldiers. They're farther away than I thought. Louisa and I rode over in that direction after school, but only got to the top of the tall butte over there. We could see them where they were camped on Fox Creek, but it was too far to go, so we went back to Harris'. Larry was all the time urging me to go home while he was here—and now Clarice has come. But I won't go, Jim, until the school ends."
"Well, you just make the best of it," replied McCullen. "I like your grit. I'm a-goin' to stay right here so's to be near you whatever happens."
"Jim," said the girl suddenly, "were you ever nervous?"
"I reckon I've been, a few times," replied McCullen. "Why, you ain't nervous, be you, Hopie? There ain't nothin' goin' to bother you out here to-night. Mebby you ain't feelin' well."
She smiled at his consternation. "No, I don't think I'm nervous, Jim; just a little restless, that's all."
"I expect that woman's comin' has sort o' upset you. I didn't want to bring her, but she managed to overrule all o' my objections."
He finished driving the last peg, which made the tent secure against the strongest wind, then straightened himself up with his hands upon the small of his back as though the movement was a difficult one.
"Well, I reckon I'll bring in the beddin', an' you can fix it up to suit yourself," he said, looking down at the girl, who had seated herself on the grass before the tent.