It was Dade who, in spite of Calumet's
remonstrances, went inside to announce the news to Betty, and she came
out with him and looked the work over with a critical, though
approving, eye. Calumet was watching her, and when she had concluded
her inspection she turned to him with a smile.
"Tomorrow you can go to Lazette and get some paint," she said.
"Want it done up in style, eh?"
"Of course," she returned; "why not?"
"That's it," he growled; "why not? You don't have to do the work."
She laughed. "I should dislike to think you are lazy."
He flushed. "I reckon I ain't none lazy." He could think of nothing
else to say. Her voice had a taunt in it; her attack was direct and
merciless. She looked at Dade, whose face was red with some emotion,
but she spoke to Calumet.
"I don't think you ought to complain about the work," she said. "You
were to do it alone, but on my own responsibility I gave you Dade."
"Pitied me, I reckon," he sneered.
"Yes." Her gaze was steady. "I pity you in more ways than one."
"When did you think I needed any pity?" he demanded truculently,
angered.
"Oh," she said, in pretended surprise, "you are in one of your moods
again! Well, I am not going to quarrel with you." She turned abruptly
and entered the house, and Calumet fell to kicking savagely into a
hummock with the toe of his boot.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144