“Over on No-Man’s Lake—I think that’s what he called it,” replied David.
“He’s a-goin’ to stay, right along now. I’ve been wantin’ to git a partner to help with the traps fur quite a spell.”
“You ain’t never said nothin’ to me ’bout gettin’ a partner,” said Swickey, her vanity wounded. “You always said I was as good as any two men helpin’ you.”
Avery, a trifle embarrassed at his daughter’s reception of the new partner, maintained an uncomfortable silence while dinner was in progress. He had hoped for delight from her, but she sat stolidly munching her food with conscious indifference to his infrequent sallies.
That evening, after David had gone to bed in the small cabin back of the camp, Avery sat on the porch with his daughter. For a long time she cuddled the kitten, busily turning over in her mind the possibilities of a whole dollar and a half. She had heard her father say that the new man was going to Tramworth in the morning. Perhaps he would be able to get her a dress. A dollar and a half was a whole lot of money. Maybe she could buy Pop some new “specs” with what she had left after purchasing the dress. Or if she had a book, a big one that would tell how to make dresses and everything, maybe that would be better to have. Jessie Cameron could sew doll’s clothes, but her mother had taught her. The fact that Swickey could not read did not occur to her as relevant to the subject. She felt, in a vague way, that the book itself would overcome all obstacles. Yes, she would ask the new man to buy a book for her and “specs” for her Pop. How to accomplish this, unknown to her father, was a problem she set aside with the ease of optimistic childhood, to which nothing is impossible.
“Pop,” she said suddenly.
“Wal?”
“Mebby you kin give me thet dollar-money fur the ile.”
“Ya-a-s,” he drawled, secretly amused at her sudden interest in money and anxious to reinstate himself in her favor. “Ya-a-s, but what you goin’ to do? Buy Pop thet dress-suit, mebby?”
“I reckon not,” she exclaimed with an unexpected show of heat that astonished him. “You said dress-suits made folks ack foolish, and I reckon some folks acks foolish ’nough right in the clothes they has on without reskin’ changin’ ’em.” With this gentle insinuation, she gathered Beelzebub in her arms and marched to her room.