“Right away. Maybe to-morrow.”
Bill stood before her silhouetted against the lamplight shining through the cotton-covered window of the kitchen-place. There was something comforting in the man’s bulk, and in the strong tones of his voice. The Kid’s fears relaxed, but anxiety was still hers.
“Say, little gal,” he went on at once, in that tender fashion he had come to use in his talk with her. “That feller’s got you scared.” He laughed. “I guess he’s the only thing to scare you in this queer territory. But he doesn’t scare me a thing. I’ve got him beat all the while—when it comes to a show-down.”
“Maybe you have in a—show-down.”
The man shook his head.
“I get your meaning,” he said. “But don’t worry.”
“But I do. I can’t help it.” The Kid’s tone was a little desperate. “You see, I know Usak. I’ve known him all my life. He threatened your life to me the night he found you on the river. I jumped in on him and beat that talk out of him. But—you see, he reckons you’re out to steal our land, our river, our—gold. It’s the last that scares me. If he knows the stuff’s found, and unless he knows right away the big things you’re doing—Don’t you see? Oh, I’m scared for you, Bill. Usak’s crazy mad if he thinks folk are going to hurt me. You’ll tell him quick, won’t you? I won’t sleep till I’m—sure. You see, if a thing happened to you—”
“Nothing’s goin’ to happen, little Kid. I sure promise you.”
The man’s words came deep, and low, and thrilling with something he could not keep out of them. It was the girl’s unfeigned solicitude that stirred him. And again the old headlong impulse was striving to gain the upper hand. He resisted it, as he had resisted it before.
But this time he sought the coward’s refuge. He reached out a hand and laid it gently on the girl’s soft shoulder.