As a matter of fact, Phillips was boyish only in this one regard; in other things he was very much of a man—more of a man than any one the Countess had met in a long time—and she derived unusual satisfaction from the mere privilege of depending upon him. This pleasure was so keen at times that she allowed her thoughts to take strange shape, and was stirred by yearnings, by impulses, by foolish fancies that reminded her of her girlhood days.
The boat-building had proceeded with such despatch thanks largely to Phillips, that the time for departure was close at hand, and inasmuch as there still remained a reasonable margin of safety the Countess began to feel the first certainty of success. While she was not disposed to quarrel with such a happy state of affairs, nevertheless one thing continued to bother her: she could not understand why interference had failed to come from the Kirby crowd. She had expected it, for Sam Kirby had the name of being a hard, conscienceless man, and Danny Royal had given proof that he was not above resorting to desperate means to gain time. Why, therefore, they had made no effort to hire her men away from her, especially as men were almost unobtainable here at Linderman, was something that baffled her. She had learned by bitter experience to put trust in no man, and this, coupled perhaps with the natural suspicion of her sex, combined to excite her liveliest curiosity and her deepest concern; she could not overcome the fear that this unspoken truce concealed some sinister design.
Feeling, this afternoon, a strong desire to see with her own eyes just what progress her rivals were making, she called Pierce away from his work and took him with her around the shore of the lake.
"Our last boat will be in the water to-morrow," he told her. "Kirby can't hold us up now, if he tries."
"I don't know," she said, doubtfully. "He is as short-handed as we are.
I can't understand why he has left us alone so long."
Phillips laughed. "He probably knows it isn't safe to trifle with you."
The Countess shook her head. "I couldn't bluff him. He wouldn't care whether I'm a woman or not."
"Were you bluffing when you held up Royal? I didn't think so."
"I don't think so, either. There's no telling what I might have done—I have a furious temper."
"That's nothing to apologize for," the young man declared, warmly. "It's a sign of character, force. I hope I never have reason to feel it."