“Mr. Blake,–if you must know,–I wish to have a place where I can go and be apart–alone.”
Blake scowled. “Alone with that dude! He’d soon find enough strength to climb up with you on the cliff.”
“I–ah–Mr. Blake, would he be apt to follow me, if I told you distinctly I should rather be alone?”
“Would he? Well, I should rather guess not!” cried Blake, making no attempt to conceal his delight. “I’ll give him a hint that’ll make his hair curl. From now on, nobody climbs up this tree but you, without first asking your permission.”
“Thank you, Mr. Blake! You are very kind.”
“Kind to let you do more work! But say, I’ll help out all I can on the other work. You know, Miss Jenny,–a rough fellow like me don’t know how to say it, but he can think it just the same,–I’d do anything in the world for you!”
As he spoke, he held out his rough, powerful hand. She shrank back a little, and caught her breath in sudden fright. But when she met his steady gaze, her fear left her as quickly as it had come. She impulsively thrust out her hand, and he seized it in a grip that brought the tears to her eyes.
“Miss Jenny! Miss Jenny!” he murmured, utterly unconscious that he was hurting her, “you know now that I’m your friend, Miss Jenny!”
“Yes, Mr. Blake,” she answered, blushing and drawing her hand free. “I believe you are a friend–I believe I can trust you.”
“You can, by–Jiminy! But say,” he continued, blundering with dense stupidity, “do you really mean that? Can you forgive me for being so confounded meddlesome, the other day, after the snake–”