“It’s none of my business,” the man said, doubtfully, “but it’s a mean old river, some ways. A lady alone might get into trouble. River pirates, you know.”
It was a challenge. He was a clear-eyed, honest man, hardly twenty-five years of age, and not an evil type at all. What he had to suggest he did boldly, sure of his right at such a time, under such circumstances, to do. He was entirely likeable. In spite of herself, Nelia wavered for a moment. She knew river people; the woman by her side would have said she would be safer with him than without his protection. There was only one reason why Nelia could not accept that protection.
“I’ll have to take care of myself,” she shook her head, without rebuke to the youth. “You see, I’m running away from a mean scoundrel.”
“Hit’s so,” the river woman approved, and the men took their departure without further comment.
The two women, disapproving the men’s housekeeping, scrubbed the boat and washed all the bedding. Nelia brought down her automobile and the two carried her own outfit on board. Then Nelia took the car back to the garage, and said that she would call for it in the morning.
“All right, Mrs. Carline,” the garage man replied, without suspicion.
Back at the landing, Nelia bade the river woman good-bye.
“I got to be going,” she said, “likely there’ll be a whole pack after me directly––”
“Got a gun?” the woman asked.
“Two,” Nelia smiled. “Bill gave me a goose rifle and Frank let me have this—he said it’s the Law down Old Mississip’!” 21