“Bert wouldn’t hev been killed if he’d stayed at the farm,” was the answer; “fer I ain’t so good ter my boys—I only half kill ’em.”
Marion sprang aboard of the train almost before it stopped, and as she took her seat she was shaking with laughter.
“Wouldn’t he be mad if he knew the truth,” she was thinking. “Why, if Matt Jenkins knew that Bert was alive and in a good position, I believe he’d be so mad that he would chew nails for a fortnight.”
A ripple of laughter flowed from Marion’s lips. She was so amused at her thoughts that she entirely forgot her surroundings.
“By Jove! But that’s a pretty girl!” said a low voice just behind her. Marion sobered instantly, but did not turn around. She knew that the gentleman who had spoken did not intend that she should hear him.
CHAPTER IV.
A SERIOUS MATCHMAKER.
When Marion alighted from her train at the Grand Central Depot it was almost midnight, but she was not frightened a particle.
“It doesn’t seem much like the first time I came,” she said to the gentleman and lady who sat just behind her and who had been talking to her pleasantly during the last part of the journey.
“How so?” asked the gentleman, with an interested look.