"It isn't disagreeable," she said shyly.
"I don't mean to dog every step you take," he continued, "but now, when
you are out of my sight, I--I can't help feeling a trifle anxious."
"But you mustn't feel responsible for me. I came down here on my own
initiative. I certainly deserve whatever happens to me. Don't I?"
"What comfort would that be to me if anything unpleasant did happen to
you?"
"Why," she asked frankly, "should you feel as responsible for my welfare
as that? After all, I am only a stranger, you know."
He said: "Do you really feel like a stranger? Do you really feel that I
am one?"
She considered the proposition for a few moments.
"No," she said, "I don't. And perhaps it is natural for us to take a
friendly interest in each other."
"It comes perfectly natural to me to take a v-very v-vivid interest in
you," he said. "What with snakes and scorpions and wood-ticks and
unboiled water and the actinic rays of the sun, I can't very well help
worrying about you. After all," he added lucidly, "you're a girl, you
know."
She admitted the accusation with a smile so sweet that there could be no
doubt of her sex.
"However," she said, "you should entertain no apprehensions concerning
me. I have none concerning you. I think you know your business."
"Of course," he said, going into his tent and returning loaded with
crow-bar, pick-axe, dynamite, battery, and wires.
She laid aside the aluminum cooking-utensils with which she had been
fussing and rose from her knees as he passed her with a pleasant nod of
_au revoir_.
"You'll be careful with that dynamite, won't you?" she said anxiously.
"You know it goes off at all sorts of unexpected moments."
"I think I understand how to handle it," he reassured her.
"Are you quite certain?"
"Oh, yes. But perhaps you'd better not come any nearer----"
"Mr. White!"
"What!"
"It _is_ dangerous! I don't like to have you go away alone with that
dynamite. You make me very anxious."
"You needn't be. If--in the very remote event of anything going
wrong--now don't forget what I say!--but in case of an accident to me,
you'll be all right if you start back to Verbena at once--instantly--and
take the right-hand road----"
"Mr. _White_!"
"Yes?"
"I was _not_ thinking of myself! I was concerned about _you_!"
"Me?--_personally_?"
"Of course! You say you have me on your mind. Do you think I am devoid
of human feeling?"
"Were you--really--thinking about _me_?" he repeated slowly. "That was
very nice of you.... I didn't quite understand.... I'll be careful with
the dynamite."
"Perhaps I'd better go with you," she suggested irresolutely.
"Why?"
"I could hold a green umbrella over you while you are digging holes. You
yourself say that the sun is dangerous."
"My sun-helmet makes it all right," he said, deeply touched.
"You won't take it off, will you?"
"No."
"And you'll look all around you for snakes before you take the next
step, won't you?" she insisted.
He promised, thrilled by her frank solicitude.
A little way up the path he paused, looked around, and saw her standing
there looking after him.
"You're sure you'll be all right?" he called back to her.
"Yes. Are you sure _you_ will be?"
"Oh, yes!"
They made two quick gestures of adieu, and he resumed the path.
Presently he turned again. She was still standing there looking after
him. They made two gestures of farewell and he resumed the path. After a
while he looked back. She--but what's the use!
When he came to the spot marked for destruction, he laid down his
paraphernalia, seized the crow-bar, and began to dig, scarcely conscious
of what he was about because he had become so deeply absorbed in other
things--in _an_-other thing--a human one with red hair and otherwise
divinely endowed.
The swift onset of this heavenly emotion was making him giddy--or
perhaps it was unaccustomed manual labor under a semi-tropical sun.
Anyway he went about his work blindly but vigorously, seeing nothing of
the surrounding landscape or of the immediate ground into which he
rammed his crow-bar, so constantly did the charming vision of her
piquant features shut out all else.
And all the time he was worrying, too. He thought of snakes biting her
distractingly pretty ankles; he thought of wood-ticks and of her snowy
neck; of scorpions and of the delicate little hands.
How on earth was he ever going to endure the strain if already, in these
few hours, his anxiety about her welfare was assuming such deep and
portentous proportions! How was he going to stand the worry until she
was safe in the snakeless, tickless North again!
She couldn't remain here! She must go North. His mind seemed already
tottering under its new and constantly increasing load of
responsibility; and he dug away fiercely with his bar, making twice as
many holes as he had meant to.
For he had suddenly determined to be done with the job and get her into
some safe place, and he meant to set off a charge of dynamite that
would do the business without fail.
Charging and tamping the holes, he used caution, even in spite of his
increasing impatience to return and see how she was; arguing very justly
with himself that if he blew himself up he couldn't very well learn how
she was.
So he attached the wires very carefully, made his connections, picked up
the big reel and the remainder of his tools, and walked toward the
distant tents, unreeling his wire as he moved along.
She was making soup, but she heard the jangle of his equipment, sprang
to her feet, and ran out to meet him.
He let fall everything and held out both hands. In them she laid her
own.
"I'm so glad to see you!" he said warmly. "I'm so thankful that you're
all right!"
"I'm so glad you came back," she said frankly. "I have been most uneasy
about you."
"I've been very anxious, too," he said. Then, drawing an unfeigned sigh
of relief: "It does seem good to get back again!" He had been away
nearly half an hour.
She examined the wire and the battery gingerly, asking him innumerable
questions about it.
"Do you suppose," she ended, "that it will be safe for you to set off
the charge from this camp?"
"Oh, perfectly," he nodded.
"Of course," she said, half to herself, "we'll both be blown up if it
isn't safe. And that is _something_!"
And she came up very close when he said he was ready to fire, and laid
her hand on his arm. The hand was steady enough. But when he glanced at
her he saw how white she had become.
"Why, Jean!" he said gently. "Are you frightened?"
"No.... I won't mind it if I may stand rather near you." And she closed
her eyes and placed both hands over her ears.
"Do you think I'd fire this charge," he demanded warmly, "if there was
the slightest possible danger to _you_? Take down your hands and
listen."
Her closed eyelids quivered: "We'll both--there won't be anything left
of either of us if anything does happen," she said tremulously. "I am
not afraid.... Only tell me when to close my ears."
"Do you really think there is danger?"
"I don't know."
He looked at her standing there, pale, plucky, eyes tightly shut, her
pretty fingers resting lightly on her ears.