“And I’ve three or four dollars. You see our difficulty needed a drastic remedy.”
“But you were at work on the railroad. I understand wages are high.”
“That’s so; but it’s some time since the pay car came along.”
“But you will get what is due you, when you go back?”
“Have another sandwich,” said Kermode. “You have made them very well.” Then seeing that she meant to have an answer, he added: “I’m not going back.”
A little color crept into her face as she looked at him. Kermode had for a time led a dissipated life, but there had been a change during the last few months. He had practised abstinence, and in new surroundings found it easier than he had expected; severe labor had healed and hardened him. His brown skin was clear, his pale-blue eyes were bright and steady, his figure was spare and finely lined.
“So,” she said, “you sacrificed your wages to assist a stranger?”
He made her a whimsical bow.
“I’d like to think we’ll be better acquainted before we part.”
“But what will you do now?”