I did not speak. Her solicitude for George had awakened in me an anger, adamite and smoldering, which grew with each minute. George must not risk his precious life! Freddy had risked his. I had risked mine. But George must be protected at all costs! And why? Why, because he meant so much to her that the lives of others, and her own safety, were insignificant in comparison? I made an attempt to smile.
“Mr. Pitt! Gardy!” she cried, shrinking. “Don’t look at me that way. What are you going to do?”
“I beg your pardon; I didn’t realize that I was looking at you in an offensive manner.”
“What—are you—going—to—do?”
I looked at the ground. It did not take me long to make my plans. I said—
“I’m going to pray that it’s a very dark night.”
From that moment the hearty camaraderie which had existed between us was gone. We seemed to have been moved far apart. Betty once more was Miss Baldwin; I was not Gardy, but Mr. Pitt. She literally drew away from me and from a distance cast puzzled glances in my direction.
Then we became formally polite to one another. When we spoke it was as if we had been but recently introduced, and we spoke only when it was necessary. And Freddy wrinkled his freckled forehead and glanced from Betty to me, frankly puzzled.
It was a long day for us all in the cave. When darkness finally began to fall we greeted it with relief. Freddy, peering out at the darkening sky, said:
“Well, your prayers have been answered all right: it’s going to be dark enough to suit anybody. Now put me next, Brains; what’s your stunt?”