"You're the singer the women in the tents sont out for, hain't you?"
"Yes."
"I was sartain of hit. Where's Uncle Adam gone to?"
"To get another team and some help."
"He'll need hit," said the newcomer, surveying the wagon.
He was young and extremely handsome, with large dark eyes, blue-black hair, and olive skin, and he sat his horse with perfect grace. Though he did not remove his wide black hat in speaking to Isabel, his manner otherwise was courtesy itself.
"Hit'll take two teams every bit and grain of two hours to pull that wagon out," he said. "Better get up behind me and ride in."
"Thank you," she said, "but Uncle Adam might wonder what had become of me."
"That's a fact, too," he said. "Better wait till he gets back. I heared from the women you was on the way; and when the rain come up night before last, and again last night, I knowed there'd be tides, and you'd see trouble coming acrost. And this morning, knowing how mean the quicks is down Troublesome, I tuck a notion to ride down and see how things was."
"You are very kind," she said. "Although we've had rather a bad time, I've enjoyed every minute of it. You see, I love adventure, and something different, and I've certainly found it."