He had misconstrued her evident embarrassment, and was trying to reassure her. For one moment Lalla’s courage failed, but she was sure Abner stood little chance of winning without some help, and there was almost no risk of discovery, not even if Gincy told her brother that she had kept the secret.
Lalla’s impetuous nature was capable of a good deal of self-sacrifice—mistaken at times, but nevertheless genuine in motive. She had a warm feeling of gratitude toward the girl who had not, by even so much as a look, hinted at her adventures with the master key. Indeed, Lalla felt that Gincy had entire confidence in her assurance that she would be perfectly straightforward from that time on.
It was the mountain warfare over again, and Lalla did not feel any real compunction about the methods. She knew instinctively, however, that Gincy and Abner would look at it differently and was prepared for questions.
However, they did not come. “These seem like dandy points; they might do me a heap of good when it comes to the final touchdown.” Abner showed her the result of his digging for the last few weeks—a whole tablet full of notes, disorderly enough but right to the point.
Lalla glanced over them with a shrewd eye, and nodded. “Abner, they’re splendid! But won’t you be scared half to death in front of that crowd?”
He shook his head resolutely. “I’m going to bluff it if I am; it doesn’t do to show one’s feelings.”
“No, and Goose Creek folks aren’t the scary kind.”
“You bet they aren’t—not the girls, anyhow.” Abner spoke with conviction.
Devotional exercises the next morning were brief. Then the excitement began. Banners went up all over the chapel, and nominations were made for governor of Appalachian America. There were speeches and special music to arouse enthusiasm for the Mountain Congress.
The girls from Clay sat in the gallery—a row of bright faces keenly watching every movement below to see what counties were represented.