“I heard you were back,” she faltered. “Mr. Doane––that is––a gentleman from town told me he had heard you were back. But–––”
She scanned his face closely and peered beyond him into the shadows with visible concern.
“Roger, come in quickly,” she invited, stepping back from the door.
With a faint smile he entered and closed the door after him. He put the lamp down on the table in what was evidently the sitting room of the small house. He looked about him with the air of one who sees familiar surroundings, but is embarrassed by them.
“Some one been tellin’ you the details of my arrival?” he asked with an effort to appear casual.
“I heard you were in some trouble, Roger.” The girl continued to stare at him with a queer expression in her fine eyes––part sorrow, part concern, part gladness.
“I’m not a stranger to trouble these days, Laura,” he said soberly.
There was a sob in the girl’s throat, but she recovered herself at once.
“Have you eaten?” she asked quickly.
“Up at Joe Price’s place,” he replied. “All fed and chipper.”