"Oh! I suppose, after your cutting up in the woods that day he wants to make you remember him."
This was an outburst that Jerry-Jo permitted himself without forethought. He was using Travers as an old tribeman might have used torture, to test his own bravery and endurance, but the effect upon Priscilla was so startling and unexpected that he fell back bewildered.
"In—the—the—woods?" she gasped.
"Sure. That time your father drove you home."
For a full moment Priscilla stared helplessly, then she began to see light.
"Do you mean," she gasped, "that he who made me dance—was the boy of the Hill Place?"
"As if you did not know it!" Jerry-Jo grunted.
"But Jerry-Jo you said he—that boy was a poor, twisted thing, ugly past all belief, while he who played and laughed that day was like an angel of light just showing me the way to heaven!"
And now Jerry-Jo's dark face was not pleasant to look upon.
"Can't a twisted thing become straight?" he muttered; "can't a devil trap himself out like an—an angel?"