It all seemed so easy now that she considered the sequence of her inspired moves. Drifting near another shanty-boat, she passed the time of day with a runaway couple who had come down the Ohio. They had dinner together on their boat. A solitaire and an unscarred wedding ring attested to the respectability of the association.
“Larry’s a river drifter,” the girl explained, “and Daddy’s one of those set old fellows who hate the river. But Mamma knew it was all right. Larry’s saved $7,000 in three years. He’d never tell me that till I married him, but I knew. We’re going clear down to N’Orleans. Are you?”
“Probably.”
“And all alone—aren’t you afraid?” 166
“Oh, I’ll be all right, won’t I?” She looked at the stern-featured youth.
“If you can shoot and don’t care,” Larry replied without a smile.
“I can shoot,” Nelia said, showing her pistol.
“That’s river Law!” Larry cried, smiling. “That’s Law. You came out the Upper River?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Then I bet––” the girl-wife started to speak, but stopped, blushing.