“Or what?”
“Naturally drop off.”
Northrup laughed. The sound disturbed the girl and she scowled.
“It’s terrible to have folks think you’re a fool to be laughed at,” she muttered. “I can’t get things over.”
“What do you want to get over, Jan-an?”
Northrup was becoming interested. If straws show the wind’s quarter, then a bit of driftwood may be depended upon to indicate the course of a stream. Northrup was again both amused and surprised to find how his very ordinary presence 68 in King’s Forest was, apparently, affecting the natives. Jan-an took on new proportions as she was regarded in the light of a straw or a bit of driftwood.
“Yer feelin’s,” the girl answered simply. “When you don’ understand like most do, yer feelin’s count, they do!”
“They certainly do, Jan-an.”
The girl considered this and struggled, evidently, to adjust her companion to suit her needs, but at last she shook her head.
“I ain’t going to take no chances with yer!” she muttered at length. “’Tain’t natural. Aunt Polly and Uncle Peter ain’t risking so much as––her–––”