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"Seeing there's no one else around, I must have meant some other fellow."
Kate laid the lace aside, and looked up with a sigh. A gentle amus.e.m.e.nt shone in her fine dark eyes.
"Have you ever tried to make things fit that--just won't?" she demanded.
Fyles shook his head.
"Maybe I can help, though," he hazarded.
"Help?" Kate's amus.e.m.e.nt merged into a laugh. "Say, when it comes to fitting things that don't fit, two heads generally muss things right up. All my life I've been trying to fit things that don't fit, and I find, if you're to succeed, you've got to do it to yourself, and by yourself. It always takes a big lot of thinking which n.o.body else can follow. Maybe your way of thinking is different from other folks, and so they can't understand, and that's why they can't follow it. Now here's a bit of lace, and there's a sleeve. The lace is short by an inch. Still there's ways and ways of fixing it, but only one right way. If I make the sleeve smaller the lace will fit, but poor Helen won't get her arm through it. If I tack on a bit more lace it'll muss the job, and make it look bad. Then there's other ways, too, but--there's only one right way." She dropped the lace in her basket and began to fold the garment. "I'll get some new lace that does fit,"
she declared emphatically.
Fyles nodded, but the amus.e.m.e.nt died out of his eyes.
"All of which is sound sense," he said seriously, "and is leading us toward controversial--er--subjects. Eh?"
Kate raised a pair of shoulders with pretended indifference. But her eyes were smiling that challenge which Stanley Fyles always a.s.sociated with her.
"Not a bad thing when the police are getting so very busy, and--you are their chief in the district," she said.
"I must once more remark, you are well informed," smiled Fyles.
"And I must once more remark not as well informed as I could wish,"
retorted Kate quickly.
Fyles had permitted his gaze to wander down the wooded course of the river. Kate was watching him closely, speculatively. And curious enough she was thinking more of the man than his work at that moment.
The man's eyes came back abruptly to her face, and her expression was instantly changed to one of smiling irony.
"Well?" she demanded.
Fyles shook his head.
"It isn't," he said. "May I ask how you know we are--so very busy?"
"Sure," cried Kate, with a frank laugh. "You see, I have two of the worst scamps in the valley working for me, and they seem to think it more than necessary that they keep themselves posted as to--your movements."
"I see." Fyles's lighter mood had entirely pa.s.sed, and with its going Kate's became more marked. "I s'pose they spy out everything for the benefit of their--chief."
Kate clapped her hands.
"What reasoning. I s'pose they have a chief?" she added slyly.
A frown of irritation crossed the policeman's brow.
"Must we open up that old sore, Miss Kate?" he, asked almost sharply.
"They are known to be--when not occupied with the work of your farm--a.s.sisting Charlie Bryant in his whisky-running schemes. They are two of his lieutenants."
"And so, because they are so known among the village people here, you are prosecuting this campaign against a man whom you hope to catch red-handed."
"I have sufficient personal evidence to--prosecute my campaign," said Fyles quickly. "As you said just now, we are not idle."
"Yes, I know," Kate sighed, and her gaze was turned upon the western reaches of the valley. "Your camp out there is full of activity. So is Winter's Crossing. And the care with which you mask your coming and going is known to everybody. It is a case of the hunter being hunted.
Yes, I say it without resentment, I am glad of these things, because I--must know."
"If we are against each other--it is only natural you should wish to know."
Kate's eyes opened wider.
"Of course we are against each other, as long as you are against Charlie. But only in our--official capacities." A whimsical smile stole into the woman's eyes. "Oh, you are so--so obstinate," she cried in mock despair. "In this valley it is no trouble for me to watch your every move, and, in Charlie's interests, to endeavor to frustrate them. But the worst of it is I'd--I'd like to see you win out. Instead of that I know you won't. You've had some news. You had it yesterday, I suppose, by that patrol. Maybe it's news of another cargo coming in, and you are getting ready to capture it, and--Charlie. I'm not here to give any one away, I'm not here to tell you all I know, must know, living in the valley, but you are doomed, utterly doomed to failure, if you count the capture of Charlie success."
In spite of the lightness of Kate's manner her words were not without their effect upon Fyles. There was a ring of sincerity in them that would not be denied. But its effect upon him was not that which she could have wished. His face set almost sternly. The challenge of the woman had stirred him out of his calm a.s.surance, but it was in a direction which she could scarcely have expected. He thrust his sunburned face forward more aggressively, and challenged her in return.
"What is this man to you?" he demanded, his square jaws seeming to clip his question the more shortly.
In a moment Kate's face was flushing her resentment. Her dark eyes were sparkling with a sudden leaping anger.
"You have no right to--ask me that," she cried. But Fyles had committed himself. Nor would he draw back.
"Haven't I?" he laughed harshly. "All's fair in love and--war. We are at war--officially."
The woman's flushing cheeks remained, but the sparkle of her eyes had changed again to an ironical light.
"War--yes. Perhaps you're right. The only courtesies recognized in war are observed in the prize ring, and in international warfare. Our warfare must be less exalted, and permits. .h.i.tting--below the belt.
I've told you what Charlie is to me, and I have told you truly. I am trying to defend an innocent man, who is no more to me than a brother, or--or son. I am doing so because of his peculiar ailments which make him well-nigh incapable of helping himself. You see, he does not care.
His own safety, his own welfare, are nothing to him. It is for that reason, for the way he acts in consequence of these things, that all men believe him a rogue, and a--a waster. I tell you he is neither."
She finished up a little breathlessly. She had permitted her loyalty and anxiety to carry her beyond the calm fencing she had intended.
But Fyles remained unmoved, except that the harshness had gone out of his manner.
"It is not I who am obstinate," he said soberly. "It is you, Miss Kate. What if I told you I had irrefutable circ.u.mstantial evidence against him? Would that turn you from your faith in him?"
The woman shook her head.
"It would be merely circ.u.mstantial evidence," she said. "G.o.d knows how circ.u.mstance has filled our penitentiaries wrongfully," she added bitterly.
"And but for circ.u.mstance our population of wrongdoers at large would be greater by a thousand per cent.," retorted the officer.
"That is supposition," smiled Kate.
"Which does not rob it of its possibility in fact."
The two sat looking at each other, silently defiant. Kate was smiling.
A great excitement was thrilling her, and she liked this man all the better for his blunt readiness for combat, even with her.
Fyles was wondering at this woman, half angry, half pleased. Her strength and readiness appealed to him as a wonderful display.