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Updated: June 5, 2025
"You takin' his part, ain't y'?" he said. "M-m-m! how's thet? Are you so all-fired anxious t' git t' Brannon?" "No, dad, I'll never go to Brannon. Never! never! If I did, you, my father, oughtn't t' misunderstand it." He quailed before her vehemence, and hobbled shamefacedly toward the door. "O' course, if th' Injuns come " he began. "They won't." She drew Marylyn to her.
Poor feed, with the plowing and the harrowing, had thinned the mules. After the first spurt, they paid no heed to the whip, and fairly crawled. Marylyn, tired, gave way to passionate complaining. Dallas folded a blanket in the bottom of the wagon and coaxed her sister to lie down upon it, her face shielded by the seat.
The next moment he was galloping toward the coulée crossing. Marylyn watched him go. When, having disappeared into the ravine, he came into sight again on the farther side, he turned in his saddle and saw her. He took off his hat and waved it. She answered with a farewell signal, and stood, looking after him, until distance dwarfed horse and rider to a dot.
She couldn't stand it if her baby sister was to suffer. Oh, honey-heart! honey-heart!" But Marylyn was not comforted. "Listen," bade Dallas. "In all your life have you ever asked me to do anything that I didn't do? or to give you anything that I didn't give you if I could? And now something's fretting you. I can't think what it is. But you got to tell me, and I'll help you out." "No, no!"
"Marylyn would be alone," she said hastily. "So so I can't." "You will, I know you will. She'll be asleep." "No no " "At taps, Dallas." He touched the hand that held the scythe upright. She thought all at once how worn he was, and white. Another moment, he had mounted and was cantering off.
Her unfailing instinct was hardening a new one, that ruled for immediate flight. Marylyn was working with her shoe-thongs, not stopping to thread them, only to wind and tie them around her ankles. She heard her sister exclaim. Then she was seized and brought forward by a trembling hand. "Marylyn! Marylyn! The boat! She's going!"
While Lounsbury, too joyfully excited to sleep, was in the sutler's billiard-room, giving Fraser, who was about to depart with the expedition, a sympathetic history of the Lancasters a history in which Marylyn was shrewdly made the dainty central figure. At five o'clock, everything being in readiness, a livelier activity prevailed.
Marylyn shrank into the dusk at the hearth-side. Lancaster was hobbling up and down, his crutch-ends digging at the packed dirt of the floor. The storekeeper, putting aside his determination, went on as though he had not noticed the other's attitude. "The storm was hard on the stock last night. They must 'a' drifted thirty miles with it. Our loss is big, likely.
I ask you to share your life with me, your work, your revenge, everything." "Not yet " "I can't bear to see you and Marylyn staying here alone. And I can't stay near enough to protect you as I ought. Matthews is sly. If I meet him, I'll kill him, as I would a wolf. Then, he'll be out of the way. But suppose he gets ahead of me? does you harm?
Again, in fancy, she was leaning down in the light of a winter fire, looking into a tear-stained face. She felt humiliation for her own weakness, and for thoughts disloyal to Marylyn. "When I see him again, I'll make him promise to come and visit her," she said. "Oh, he must! he must!" At last, renewed in spirit, she returned bravely to her work.
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