She flung up her arms and accused herself, passionately: “I have been a fool. I’d give my very heart to make matters right again!”
“I think so,” he admitted. “I reckon you’re in earnest.”
Again his fixed, appraising stare was disturbing her.
“About Mr. Latisan——” she hurried on. “I can’t believe that he’ll stay away long.”
“I guess you know as little about the ways of men up here as you know about the drives, my girl. There’s plenty of iron in their natures, but there isn’t much brass in their cheeks. He’s done—he can’t face the Big Laugh. He’s seen what it has done to others. But you city folks don’t understand woods ways and notions!”
She set her firm teeth over her lower lip to control its quivering. Then she ventured. It was a resolve born out of her desperate desire to redeem, if she were able. There was one thing she could do—it seemed a natural thing to do, in that extremity.
“I have something to ask of you. Please don’t be angry! I’m trying to square myself!”
“Go ahead! I’m ready now to be pretty easy natured when somebody is really in earnest about helping me.”
“Give me your permission to go north and explain to your men why Mr. Latisan isn’t on the drive! I’ll tell them everything. I’ll open my soul to those men. They’ll understand.”
“It’s not a girl’s job,” he declared, sternly.