“‘HE WAS FIGGERIN’ TO LOSE YE IN THE WOODS.’”
“Did he tell you that?” cried the girl. “To go to the west—seven or eight miles! And he saw that you hadn’t a rifle, or any food! And he didn’t know that you knew better than to go to the west!”
“Knowed better!” exclaimed the old man, testily. “It wasn’t what he knowed brought him here—it was the hand of Providence. That thar Ned Tone’s a pore skunk! He was layin’ to lose ye in the woods; for ther ain’t a house due west o’ this here within sixty mile, an’ all ye’d find at the end o’ that loggin’ road is an empty shack that was built by Mick Otter the Injun an’ me one year we cut out a bunch o’ pine timber. He was figgerin’ to lose ye in the woods, the mean critter!”
“The coward!” exclaimed Catherine, pale with scorn.
Old Gaspard eyed her contemplatively for a moment. Akerley felt a pleasant warmth at his heart.
“I’ll step along an’ take a look,” said Gaspard. “Ye kin stop right here, young man, an’ rest up. I ain’t heared all about ye I wanter know yet. Maybe ye’re a liar, fer all I know.”
“Liar or not, you’ll find me right here when you get back,” replied Akerley.
CHAPTER V
THE PLAN SUCCEEDS
Old Gaspard Javet was no more than out of the house before Akerley commenced a detailed account of the morning’s adventure; and when that was finished—and it was brief as it was vivid—the girl expressed her delight at Ned Tone’s defeat. But she confessed her satisfaction was somewhat chilled by apprehension of trouble of the bully’s making. Akerley made light of her fears on that score.
“I am glad it happened just as it did,” he said. “He picked the fight. I’m not worrying about him, so long as you are glad I did the beating. And I don’t think he will talk about it, even after his lip heals.”