My Brave and Gallant Gentleman Part 44

Joe said it. He said to Grand-dad, 'You ain't got no right lettin'

that kid go over there. Girls ain't got any business learnin' lessons off'n men.'

"Grand-dad said, 'Aw! forget it, Joe. She's got my permission, so let that end it. George Bremner's all right.'

"The settlers are arranging for a teacher up here next summer. Why can't she wait till then and get her lessons from a reg'lar professional, and no gol-durned amatoor,' said Joe.

"'See here, Mister man!' I said, 'you're sore,--that's your trouble.

But I'm not going to be bullied by you,--so there. I'm through with you, Joe Clark;--and, what's more, you needn't take any interest in me any more. I can look after myself.'

"He gripped my arm. It's black and blue yet. See!

"'You ain't goin',' said he, madder'n ever.

"'Yes! I am,' I said.

"'If you go, by G.o.d, I'll kill that son-of-a-gun. Watch me! I ain't forgot him, though maybe he's fool enough to think I have.'

"Then he got kind of soft.

"'Don't you go, Rita.'

"'Why?' I asked.

"'Because I don't want you to.'

"'That's no reason,' I said.

"I'll send you to a school in Vancouver this winter, if you'll wait,'

he coaxed.

"You see, George,--Joe ain't half bad sometimes. But I was scared he might think I was givin' in.

"'Don't want your schooling. It's too late,' said I. 'I've arranged for myself, Joe Clark,--so there.'

"I ran out and left him.

"He's pretty mad, but I don't care any more, now you're goin' to help me with this grammar.

"You're sure you're not scared of Joe?" she repeated.

"I have a strong right arm," I declared, "and I have been taught to look after myself."

I went down to the boat with her, and as she was stepping in she caught me by the shirt sleeve.

"You and Joe aren't goin' to fight, George? Promise me you won't fight."

"I could not promise that, little girl, for I cannot control the future. But I promise you that I shall not seek any quarrel with Joe.

But, if he insulted you, for instance, or tried to commit a bodily violence on me, I would fight him without any hesitation. Wouldn't that be the right thing to do, Rita?"

Her head nodded wistfully. "Yes! Guess it would," she whispered, as I pushed her boat out into the water where the darkness swallowed it up.

CHAPTER XX

Fishing!

In the fulfilling of a promise, I called the following evening on Miss Grant.

It was the first of a number of such visits, for I found that the old feeling of antagonism between us had entirely disappeared and, consequently, I enjoyed the sociability refreshingly.

Our meetings, while not by any means of the 'friendly admiration' kind, were of a nature beneficial to both of us.

She learned that I was an Englishman of good family. I gathered, her mother had been a Virginian and her father an Englishman; that she loved the American Continent and always considered the United States her country as her mother had done before her. But further than this we did not get, for we were both diffident in talking of our lives prior to our coming to Golden Crescent. Still, we had many never-failing topics of conversation, many subjects to discuss in literature, music, philosophy and economics.

We travelled along in our acquaintance easily,--leisurely,--as if time were eternal and the world were standing still awaiting our good pleasure.

Late one afternoon, when I was sitting out on the rocks, near the oil barns at the end of the wharf, enjoying the cooling breezes after the trying heat of that midsummer's day, I saw Miss Grant come down the path with her fishing lines in her hand and her sweater-coat over her arm. She went to her boat and started to pull it toward the water.

I scrambled over and down the rocks, to lend a hand.

"Any room for me, Miss Grant?" I asked boldly.

"Why, yes!" she smiled eagerly, "if only you would come. You promised once, you know, but, somehow, that promise is still unfulfilled."

I handed her into the boat, pushed off and leaped in beside her. She took the oars and, with the swift easy strokes, full of power and artistic grace, which I had noticed the first time I saw her on the water, she pulled out to the west of Rita's Isle.

Her hair was hanging negligently, in loose, wavy curls, over her shoulders. Her dimpled arms and her neck were bared to the sunshine.

Her mouth was parted slightly and her teeth shone ivory-like, as she plied her oars.

"Let me take a turn now," I asked, "and run out your line."

She did so, and I took her slowly round the Island without her feeling so much as a tiny nibble.

"How stupid!" I exclaimed. "What's the good of me coming out here, if I do not try to discover the cause of your continual non-success as a fisher? Pull in your line and let me have a look at the spoon."

I examined the sinker and found it of the proper weight and properly adjusted, fixed at the correct length from the bait. Next, I took the spoon in my hand. It was a small nickel spinner,--the right thing for catching sea-trout round Rita's Isle. I was puzzled for a little, until I laid the spoon and the hook flat on the palm of my hand, then I knew where the trouble was.

The barb of the hook hung fully an inch and a half too far from the spoon.

I adjusted it and handed it back to my lady-companion.

"Try that," I said with a smile.

In dropped the line and out it ran to its full length.

Miss Grant held it taut. Suddenly she gave it a jerk. She stopped in breathless excitement. Then she jerked again.