Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 22, 2025
"And you flogged him with your quirt?" "Sure." The man's teeth clipped together. "Oh, yes," he went on, after a moment. "I'm not the sort to let a neche get away with that sort of thing. You see, I reckon I'm master around this layout." "And Keeko?" Again came the man's ominous laugh in reply. "She was quick. I reckoned she was here with you. Making her fancy farewell.
You see Say come right along." "So you're Keeko." Marcel was standing by, looking on with a smiling happiness lighting his face. But he was not observing. Observation at such a moment was impossible to him. He was feasting his happy eyes on the girl's pretty face under the brown fur cap which had been tilted from her forehead.
Leave him Marcel an' this Keeko. All mak' big weep. Oh, yes." Steve's eyes smiled gently. He came over to the woman's side. One hand, that seemed to have lost much of its muscular shape, rested gently on her shoulder. "Don't you just worry a thing, An-ina," he said. "Guess I know. When Marcel gets back I'll be around all right. I reckon to get through quick. That's why I work late into the night.
"That's how I always figger. Guess I haven't a notion to miss a thing now. The days of foolishness are over." Keeko was well enough aware of the thoughts which lay at the back of her own words. Now she strove to penetrate his. "Yes," she said with a quiet confidence which she by no means felt.
Nicol stood up. His movement was a little precipitate. Nevertheless a moment passed before he withdrew his gaze from the treasure he coveted. When he finally did so it was not to look in the girl's direction. He was gazing out at the forest backing the fort. Keeko became impatient. She was alarmed, too. "How is she?" she cried urgently. Nicol shook his head. He turned to the waiting Indians.
Marcel nodded. "It's plumb easy." There was no showiness, no bravado. Marcel had no thought to dazzle the girl. His purpose was a simple, boyish act. He moved off into the forest while Keeko looked after him. From her heart she could have begged him to abandon, or modify his plan.
He was thinking of that moment of parting, when he had gazed down into the great blue eyes of his baby girl as she was held up to him by her erring mother. "Keeko!" he muttered again. "Coqueline!" Then, after a long, almost interminable pause: "Nita!" Years ago Steve had drunk to the dregs a despair that left life shorn of everything but a desolate existence.
So she sat there on the ages-old trunk, with a wild feeling of unaccountable emotion in utter and complete possession of her soul. Marcel abruptly seated himself beside her on the tree-trunk. "Say, Keeko," he cried, his seriousness gone, "guess this has been all sorts of a talk, and I've blown a horn that would have worried the angel Gabriel. Well, I've just got to make good that's all.
"Him go," she said, with a little gesture of the hands. "An-ina send him. Oh, yes." "Gone? Where?" Steve was startled. For a moment a sickening doubt flashed through his mind, and robbed his eyes of the shining joy of his return. "It Keeko. She call call. All the time she call to Marcel, who is great man like to Boss Steve. Yes. Oh, yes. She call this white girl, Keeko. And An-ina say, 'Go!
An-ina much happy. Uncle Steve happy too." The woman drove straight to the purpose at which she aimed. All the problems concerning the lives of the men she loved held for her a perfectly simple solution. Steve would come back to her in his own good time. There was nothing to be considered on that score. Marcel loved the white girl, Keeko.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking