"Good thing," commented Ronald. "Many a time I've felt like taking you by the collar and shaking you as a terrier shakes a rat."
"Me, too," laughed Forsyth. "Whose turn is it this afternoon?"
"I think it's mine. We were both there this morning, but you've intimated that I didn't leave a pleasant impression, and I ought to have a chance to set myself right, don't you think?"
"As you say—it doesn't make any difference to me."
"I'll have to get out pretty early some of the time," mused Ronald, "and exercise the beast. I don't want to lose a precious hour doing that."
"We might take turns—" suggested Forsyth, tentatively.
"We will not," retorted Ronald. "That's my job—she gave it to me herself."
Forsyth went across the river and Ronald returned to the Fort. Each was relieved because the matter was settled, for, as Robert had indicated, there had been friction.
All through the long, hot afternoon Ronald kept a close watch upon Captain Franklin's door. His knock met with no response, and Katherine had long since gone home. Doctor Norton had attempted to talk with the waiting swain, but found it unsatisfactory and retired gracefully.
Just before six o'clock Beatrice emerged. Her white gown was turned in a little at the throat, and her hair hung far below her waist in a heavy, shining braid, ending in a curl. Ronald's heart gave a great leap as he went to meet her.