Dan was younger than the other men and had never been west before. But he had spent his life in the New Hampshire woods and was devoted to outdoor sports. Moreover, he was tremendously grateful and enthusiastic over the suggestion of his two new acquaintances, that he join them in the hunting and tramping expeditions which they were then planning.
He knew Ralph Marshall, of course, and they were friendly enough, but had no particular liking for each other.
“You are not going to join in these strenuous enterprises, are you, Ralph?” Peggy asked as she and Dan were about to climb back into their wagon to return to their own camp.
“Why not?” Ralph demanded, flushing a little, not so much from Peggy’s tone, which had been nothing but friendly, but from the attitude which he suspected in the other three men.
“Oh, for no reason at all,” Peggy returned quickly, “only that I thought you liked other amusements better. You know I don’t think a great deal of trying to destroy things, although so long as I like to eat what Dan kills I suppose I can’t criticise his hunting.”
In her first speech Peggy had had no idea of hurting Ralph’s feelings, or even his self-esteem, which is what people are apt to hurt in us. Therefore, appreciating the fact that he seemed a little uncomfortable, she had attempted to change the subject. Moreover, in saying good-bye she gave her hand last to Ralph, looking at him with an appeal for forgiveness for her unconscious awkwardness. Under the circumstances she found it impossible to apologise openly.
Ralph Marshall had not Peggy’s generosity of nature. He said good-bye with perfect politeness, but the girl still felt that he was chagrined.
“Bully girl, isn’t she? As good a sport I should think as the best kind of a fellow!” Howard Brent exclaimed after Dan and Peggy had driven off.
For a moment Terry Benton whistled softly before replying. Then, being an Irishman, he was a little enigmatic.
“They are made differently, aren’t they, girls? We men may be cut after the same pattern, but sometimes I believe no two girls are alike. Personally I like the old-fashioned types better. Peggy Webster would be the best kind of a comrade I expect, but somehow I suppose, being Irish, I could stand for a little more sentiment than she possesses.”