Anything Once Part 10

"I dunno." Lou dropped her arms from the fence-rail and turned away.

"Let's go back to the house. I--I'm pretty tired."

CHAPTER VII

Revelations

The next morning was a trying one for them both. Jim felt dully that something was the matter, but the girl's manner baffled him, and he could not make up his mind as to whether she had glanced in the note-book or not. It did not seem like her to do so deliberately, but if she had he could only make things worse by broaching the subject, since he was not at the moment in a position to explain.

As for Lou, she was trying her best to appear her old self with him, but dissimulation was an art in which she was as yet unversed, and her whole nature rebelled against playing a part. Only her pride kept her from betraying her disappointment in him and running away. She told herself fiercely that he didn't care what she thought of him; they were only partners met by chance on the road, and perhaps never to see each other again after the city was reached.

If he had lied to her about his name that was his own business, and she would not admit even to herself that this deception was not the only reason for the strange, hurt feeling about her heart.

She rose at dawn, and, creeping down from the clean little room which Mrs. Bemis had given her, she had the stove going and breakfast on the table by the time the little family was awake, and Jim appeared from the barn, where he had slept in the loft.

While he worked in the field during the early morning hours, she finished the ironing, and by ten o'clock they were ready once more to start upon their way.

Mrs. Bemis insisted upon paying them both for their work, but it was only out of consideration for her pride that Jim would accept fifty cents of the two dollars she offered him.

"I only work for a quarter a time," he told her gravely. "One for yesterday and one for this morning; my sister can tell you that. I--I would like to write to you if I may when we reach home, Mrs. Bemis. Will you tell me what address will find you? You see, I want to thank you properly for all your kindness to us, and I don't know whether this is the township of Riverburgh or not."

"It's the Stilton post-office," the little woman stammered. "Of course, I'd like to hear from both of you, but you mustn't thank me! I don't know what I should have done without your help with the hay! And your sister, too; I do hope you both find work where you're going."

To Lou's amazement Jim produced the little red note-book and wrote the address carefully in it, adding what appeared to be some figures at one side. Then he thanked their good Samaritan and they took their leave.

"That makes a dollar and ten cents!" he remarked confidentially as he and Lou went down the hill road together toward the bustling little city nestled at the river's edge. "Quite a fortune, isn't it?"

"She gave me a quarter for helping with the ironing, too, so that's thirty-five that I've got." Lou exhibited a hard knot tied in the corner of her handkerchief. "I couldn't get all of the egg out of my hat, but it's good enough. Where do we go from Riverburgh?"

Jim gave a groan of mock despair.

"That's the dev--I mean, the deuce of it!" he exclaimed. "We've got to cross the river there someway, and go on down on the other side. We can't keep on this, or we will run into New Jersey and--and I mustn't leave the State."

He blurted the last out in a dogged, uncomfortable way, but Lou did not appear to notice his change of tone.

"Well, there look to be plenty of boats goin' back an' forth," she observed placidly. "I guess we can get over."

"But you don't understand. I--I can't pay our way over; that's another of the things I mustn't do." Jim flushed hotly.

"I wish I could tell you all about it."

"It don't make any difference." Lou kept her eyes fixed straight ahead of her. "There ought to be some way for you to work your way across."

The road dipped sharply, and became all at once a pleasant, tree-lined street with pretty suburban cottages on either hand. To the east and north hung the smoke cloud of countless factories, but their way led them through the modest residential quarter. The street presently turned into a paved one, and trolley lines appeared; then brick buildings and shops, and before they knew it they were in the busy, crowded business thoroughfare.

Lou would have paused, gaping and wondering if New York could be anything like this, but Jim hurried her down the steep, cobbled way which led to the ferry. Once there, he took her to a seat in the waiting-room.

"Sit here and wait for me," he directed. "I'm going to run back up to the shops and get some provisions for us to carry along, and then I'll arrange about getting across. I shan't be long."

When he came down the hill again some twenty minutes later laden with packages, he found Lou waiting for him at the door of the ferry-house, with a little exultant smile about her lips.

"Come on," she commanded shortly. "I've fixed it for us to get over, but we gotta hurry. The boat's a'most ready to start."

"How in the world----" he began, but without deigning to explain she led him to the gate. It was only after he had perforce preceded her that he saw her hand two tickets to the officials at the turnstile.

"Lou!" he exclaimed reproachfully.

"Well, it's all right, isn't it?" she demanded. "You kin ride if anybody asks you, can't you? I'm invitin' you to ride on this boat with me, Mr.

Botts!"

In spite of her a.s.sumed gaiety, however, the trip across the river was a silent one, and when the landing was reached and they hurried out of the settlement to the open country once more, both were acutely aware that the intangible rift was widening. It was as though they walked on opposite sides of the road, and neither could bridge the distance between.

Both doggedly immersed in their own reflections, they walked on rapidly in spite of the heat and with no thought of time or distance until Jim realized that his companion was lagging, and glanced up to see that the sun had started well upon the western trail.

"By Jove! You must be almost starved!" he cried. "I never thought--why didn't you wake me out of this trance I seem to have been in, and tell me it was long past time for chow? We must have walked miles!"

"I didn't think, either." Lou glanced about her wearily. "I don't see any house, but I kinder think I hear a little brook somewhere, don't you? Let's find it, an' then hurry on; if we've got to do sixty miles by the day after to-morrow we got to be movin' right steady."

They found the little brook, and ate of their supplies and drank heartily, for they were both famished by the long walk, but all the carefree joyousness seemed to have gone out of the adventure, and when Lou discovered that the knot in the corner of her handkerchief had become untied and the remainder of her capital was gone, it appeared to be the last cloud needed to immerse her in gloom.

Her feet were blistered and every muscle ached with fatigue, but she shook her head when Jim asked if she were too tired to go on, and limped determinedly out into the road after him. She had accepted his companionship to New York, and she would drop in her tracks before she would be a drag on him and prevent his reaching there in the time which was so mysteriously important to him.

A mile farther on, however, an empty motor van picked them up, and seated at the back with her feet hanging over, Lou promptly fell asleep, her head sagging unconsciously against Jim's shoulder. He did not touch her, but moved so that her head should fall into a more comfortable position, and looked down with new tenderness at the tow-colored hair.

The ridiculous, outstanding braid was gone, and instead, a soft knot appeared low on the slender, sun-burned neck, with tiny tendrils of curls escaping from it.

What a game little sport she had proved herself to be! He wondered how many girls of his own set would have had the courage and endurance for such a test. Then to his own amazement he found himself thinking of them with a certain sense of disparagement, almost contempt. They would not have had the moral courage, let alone physical endurance.

Of course, this sort of vagabondage would be outrageous and utterly impossible from a conventional standpoint, but with Lou it had been a mere venture into Arcady, as innocent as the wanderings of two children.

And Sat.u.r.day it must end!

At the outskirts of Parksville he called to the good-natured truckman who sat behind the wheel, and the latter obligingly put on the brakes.

"My sister and I don't want to go right into the town, so we'll get out here if you don't mind," Jim said. "This lift has been a G.o.dsend, and I can't thank you, but I've got the name of the company you're working for in New York and I'll drop around some night when I'm flush and you're knocking off, and we'll see if the old burg is as dry as it's supposed to be."

"You're on!" The driver grinned. "Got a job waitin' for yer? We need some helpers."

"I've got a job." Jim thought of that "job" in the mahogany-lined suite of offices which bore his name on the door, but he did not smile. "I'll look you up soon. Come on, Lou; here's where we change cars."

She rubbed her eyes and gazed about her bewilderedly in the gathering darkness as he lifted her to the ground and the truck rumbled off.

"Where--where are we now?" she asked sleepily.

"Just outside Parksville; see those lights over there?" he replied. "We must have walked more than ten miles before that motor van came along, so it isn't any wonder that you were tired, even if you wouldn't admit it. Just think, nineteen miles to-day!"

He was wondering, even as he spoke, what they were to do for the night.