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Updated: June 3, 2025
The usurping of a woman's province by a man was always an amusing thing. But for Glenn Kilbourne what more would it be? He evidently knew what he wanted, for every movement was quick, decisive. One after another he placed bags, cans, sacks, pans, utensils on the table. Then he kicked at the roaring fire, settling some of the sticks.
"You're the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his fireplace," declared the woman, heartily. "I'm sure glad to meet you, an' my daughter Flo will be, too." That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. "Yes, I'm Glenn Kilbourne's fiancee. I've come West to surprise him. Is he here.... Is is he well?" "Fine. I saw him yesterday. He's changed a great deal from what he was at first.
"It was some spill. But you lit on the sand and slid. You can't be hurt." The look of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the feel of his hands were such that Carley chose for a moment to pretend to be very badly hurt indeed. It was worth taking a header to get so much from Glenn Kilbourne. But she believed she had suffered no more than a severe bruising and scraping.
This insulated rift in the crust of the earth was a gigantic burrow for beasts, perhaps for outlawed men not for a civilized person not for Glenn Kilbourne. "Don't be scart, ma'am," spoke up the driver. "It's safe if you're careful. An' I've druv this manys the time." Carley's heartbeats thumped at her side, rather denying her taunted assurance of fearlessness.
The assembled company suddenly quieted with a portent inimical to their leisurely content of the moment. Carley felt them all looking at her, and underneath the exterior she preserved with extreme difficulty, there burned so fierce an anger that she seemed to have swelling veins of fire. "Queer how Kilbourne went into raising hogs," observed Morrison. "Such a low-down sort of work, you know."
And the Germans between! We had learned from Ryerson that the enemy would make their rush at two o'clock in the morning, the signal being a siren shriek from the Canadian shore, so at a quarter before two, knowing that the Germans were surely in the trap, Colonel Kilbourne gave the word, and, suddenly, a dozen search-lights swept the darkness with pitiless glare.
"I declare, you make me see red, Carley," flashed Geralda, angrily. "No wonder Morrison roasts you to everybody. He says Glenn Kilbourne threw you down for some Western girl. If that's true it's pretty small of you to vent your spleen on us." Carley felt the gathering of a mighty resistless force, But Geralda Conners was nothing to her except the target for a thunderbolt.
The over-large table at which the unfortunate Julia had so often watched her husband eat his unappetising meals, and where he still made a pretence of eating them in sight of the empty sofa, still occupied too much of the available space. Kilbourne turned and confronted the girl, who had followed him in. His eyes shone now, and there was the working of excitement in his face.
But she well realized that not all problems could be solved by a call out of the West. Any open and lonely land that might have saved Glenn Kilbourne would have sufficed for her. It was the spirit of the thing and not the letter. It was work of any kind and not only that of ranch life. Not only the raising of hogs! Carley directed stumbling steps toward the light of her tent.
She seemed to have a difficult approach to undefined and unusual thoughts. All this was so different from her regular life. Besides she was tired. But these explanations did not suffice. There was a pang in her breast which must owe its origin to the fact that Glenn Kilbourne had been ill in this little room and some other girl than Carley Burch had nursed him. "Am I jealous?" she whispered. "No!"
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