'd either warn him and have done with it,
or I'd stand by him."
"I'm not sure that I like the misunderstanding about me," Truedale half
playfully remarked, "they may shoot me in the back before they find
out."
"Do you" (and here Nella-Rose's face fell into serious, dangerously
sweet, lines), "do you reckon I would leave you to them-all if there was
that danger? They don't aim to shoot or string Burke up; they reckon
they'll take him alive and--get him locked up in jail to--to--"
"What, Nella-Rose?"
"Die of longing!"
"Is that what would happen to Burke Lawson?"
The girl nodded. Then the entrancing mischief returned to her eyes and
she became a child once more--a creature so infinitely young that
Truedale seemed grandfatherly by comparison.
"Can't you see how mighty funny it will be to lead them and let them
follow on and then some day--they'll plump right up on you and find out!
Godda'mighty!"
Irresponsible mirth swayed the girl to and fro. She laughed, silently,
until the tears stood in the clear eyes. Truedale caught the spirit of
her mood and laughed with her. The picture she portrayed of setting
jealousy, malice, and stupidity upon the wrong trail was very funny, but
suddenly he paused and said seriously:
"But in the meantime this Burke Lawson may return; you may be the death
of him with your pranks."
Nella-Rose shook her head. "I would know!" she declared confidently. "I
know everything that's going on in the hills. Burke would let me
know--first!"
"It's like melodrama," Truedale murmured half to himself. By some trick
of fancy he seemed to be looking on as Brace Kendall might have. The
thought brought him to bay. What would good old Brace do in the present
situation?
"What is melodrama?" Nella-Rose never let a new word or suggestion
escape her. She was as keen as she was dramatic and mischievous.
"It would be hard to make you understand--but see here"--Truedale drew
the gunny sack to him--"I bet you're hungry!" He deliberately put Brace
from his thoughts.
"I reckon I am." The lovely eyes were fixed upon the hand that was
bringing forth the choicest morsels of the food prepared early that
morning. As he laid the little feast before her, Truedale acknowledged
that, in a vague way, he had been saving the morsels for Nella-Rose even
while he had fed, earlier, upon coarser fare.
"I don't know about giving you a chicken wing!" he said playfully. "You
look as if you were about to fly aw
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