The Kid sighed again. And the man understood that the comfort he had desired for her had been achieved.
Again came his quiet laugh.
“Anyway we can’t worry with Usak—to-night.”
The girl shook her head. In a moment she had forgotten the Indian and remembered only the thing about to happen. It was their farewell that had yet to be spoken, and this man would be speeding up the darkened river to his camp, and it would be months—long, dreary months before she would witness again those calm smiling grey eyes, and hear again the voice that somehow made the heaviest burdens of her life on the river something that was a joy to contemplate. The desolation of his going appalled her now that the moment of parting had actually arrived.
“Gee! It’s going to be a long night to—Spring.”
Bill spoke with a surge of feeling he could no longer deny.
The girl remained silent, and her blue eyes sought the dark course of the river in self-defence.
“What’ll you be doing—all the time?”
Bill’s voice had lowered. There was a wonderful depth of tenderness in its tone.
“Waitin’—mostly.”