“You're going to marry Wilmer Deakon and be a proper happy wife!” he declared, bringing his fist down on a hard palm. “Get this other nonsense out of your head!”
Suddenly he was trembling at the old catastrophe reopened by Lucy. His love for her, and his dread, choked him. She added nothing more, but sat rigid and pale and rebellious. Before long she went in, but Calvin stayed facing the darkness, the menace of the lonely valley. Except for the lumbermen it would be worse in the Sugarloaf cutting.
Damn the frogs!
Martin Eckles appeared in the buggy the following evening and offered to carry Lucy for a short drive to a near-by farm; with an air of indifference she accepted. Wilmer didn't call, and Calvin sat in silent perplexity with Ettie. The buggy returned later than they had allowed, and Lucy went up to bed without stopping on the porch.
The next morning Ettie, with something in her hand, came out to Calvin at the stable shed.
“I found this in Lucy's room,” she said simply.
It was Martin Eckles' gold ring, set with the insignia in rubies, suspended in a loop of ribbon.
A cold angry certitude formed in his being. What a criminal fool he had been! What a blind booby! His only remark, however, brought a puzzled expression to Ettie's troubled countenance. Calvin Stammark exclaimed, “Phebe Braley.” He was silent for a little, his frowning gaze fixed beyond any visible object, then he added: “Put that back where you found it and forget everything.”
Ettie laid a hand on his sleeve. “Now, Calvin,” she begged, her voice low and strained, “promise me——”
“Forget everything!” he repeated harshly.