“All right. I’ll jog down and see him.” He turned back after a step or two. “Did Jim say he was going back this afternoon?”
“I dunno,” replied Swickey listlessly.
He looked at her. She seemed older, more serious than usual. Slowly he realized that she was no longer the child of yesterday, but a girl budding rapidly into womanhood, which seemed natural enough when he remembered what her life had been up to the time he had first met her. She was virtually doing a woman’s work at the camp; had been for a number of years. Then she was of the type that matures rapidly. Outdoor air and exercise had developed her physically, and she had always been of full proportions for her age. The color glowed in her cheeks as he gazed at her.
“Swickey, what’s the matter? Have I offended you in any way? You haven’t spoken to me since yesterday.”
“Nothin’,” she replied. “You ain’t done nothin’.”
“Don’t you mean: ‘You haven’t done anything?’” he asked kindly.
“Nope.” She offended deliberately.
“Swickey!” His tone of gentle reproof was new to her. Self-accusation, laboring in her heart, sent a full tide of color to her brows, but she did not speak.
“Is it Smoke?” he asked.
She nodded. Yesterday that answer would have sufficed her conscience, but to-day....