FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67  
68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   >>   >|  
ust mean human beings of one sort or another, and thereby a means to reach home. She kept on. The wavering gleam came from behind a thicket--an open fire, she saw at length. Beyond the fire she heard a horse sneeze. Within a few yards of the thicket through which wavered the yellow gleam she halted, smitten with a sudden panic. This endured but a few seconds. All that she knew or had been told of frontier men reassured her. She had found them to a man courteous, awkwardly considerate. And she could not wander about all night. She moved cautiously, however, to the edge of the thicket, to a point where she could see the fire. A man sat humped over the glowing embers, whereon sizzled a piece of meat. His head was bent forward, as if he were listening. Suddenly he looked up, and she gasped--for the firelight showed the features of Roaring Bill Wagstaff. She was afraid of him. Why she did not know nor stop to reason. But her fear of him was greater than her fear of the pitch-black night and the unknown dangers of the forest. She turned to retreat. In the same instant Roaring Bill reached to his rifle and stood up. "Hold on there!" he said coolly. "You've had a look at me--I want a look at you, old feller, whoever you are. Come on--show yourself." He stepped sidewise out of the light as he spoke. Hazel started to run. The crack of a branch under foot betrayed her, and he closed in before she took three steps. He caught her rudely by the arm, and yanked her bodily into the firelight. "Well--for the--love of--Mike!" Wagstaff drawled the exclamation out in a rising crescendo of astonishment. Then he laid his gun down across a roll of bedding, and stood looking at her in speechless wonder. CHAPTER VII A DIFFERENT SORT OF MAN "For the love of Mike!" Roaring Bill said again. "What are you doing wandering around in the woods at night? Good Lord! Your teeth are chattering. Sit down here and get warm. It is sort of chilly." Even in her fear, born of the night, the circumstances, and partly of the man, Hazel noticed that his speech was of a different order from that to which she had been listening the past ten days. His enunciation was perfect. He dropped no word endings, nor slurred his syllables. And cast in so odd a mold is the mind of civilized woman that the small matter of a little refinement of speech put Hazel Weir more at her ease than a volume of explanation or protest o
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   67  
68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

Roaring

 
thicket
 

firelight

 
speech
 

Wagstaff

 

listening

 
crescendo
 

bedding

 

rising

 

astonishment


rudely

 
branch
 

betrayed

 

closed

 

sidewise

 

stepped

 

started

 
bodily
 

yanked

 

drawled


caught

 

exclamation

 

slurred

 

endings

 

syllables

 
enunciation
 
dropped
 

perfect

 
volume
 

explanation


protest
 

civilized

 

matter

 

refinement

 
wandering
 

CHAPTER

 

DIFFERENT

 

chilly

 
circumstances
 

noticed


partly

 
chattering
 

speechless

 

turned

 

seconds

 
endured
 

smitten

 
halted
 

sudden

 

frontier