yourself in that beastly little boat that turns over if you look at it,
and you can swim about as well as a cat. If it hadn’t been for Frank
here, you’d be absolutely drowned dead by now.”
The color stole back into Kit’s face. Perhaps if he had sympathized
with her, she might have broken down, but as it was, she looked up into
Frank’s eyes almost appealingly.
“I’m awfully sorry,” she began, but Frank stopped her with a laugh, as
he rolled her up tighter in another blanket.
“I’m the doctor here now,” he said, “and you’ll have to mind. I guess
if I carry you, we can get you home somehow. The sooner you’re in bed,
the better.”
Mrs. Craig, Jean and Doris were just coming along the road when they
saw the startling procession coming up from the river bank, Frank
carrying the blanketed figure and Billie bringing up the rear.
“Why, Mother,” Jean exclaimed, “someone’s been hurt.”
“She’s all right,” called Frank, cheerily. “Just took a dip in the
river, Mrs. Craig. If you’ll go ahead, please, and get a bed ready,
I’ll bring her up.”
Kit’s eyes were closed. He had told her to put her arms around his neck
so that he could carry her easier up the hill. Just as they got to the
porch steps he said, under his breath, “Are you OK, Kit?”
She nodded her head slowly and opened her eyes. “Thank you for getting
me out,” she whispered, with a shyness absolutely new to her. “You
don’t know how I felt when I found myself caught down there, and
couldn’t get away. I thought that was just all.”
“Bring her upstairs, Frank,” called Jean. “Mother’s telephoning to Dr.
Gallup, but I suppose the danger’s all past now. Kit, you big dope,
what did you ever go in that boat alone for? The minute you’re left
alone, you’re always up to something. Just like the day when she had
you locked up in the corncrib, Frank.”
Frank smiled, a curious reminiscent smile, as he laid his burden down
on the bed.
Probably only Kit heard his answer, for Jean had gone after hot tea,
and Doris was getting the heating pad, but Kit heard and smiled as he
said, “God bless the corncrib.”
18. Jean’s Romance
Probably the next three days were the longest Kit had ever spent in her
life. Under Dr. Gallup’s orders, she remained in bed to get over the
shock of her immersion.
“When I don’t feel shocked a bit,” she argued, “I don’t see why I can’t
sit in a chair down on the porch.”
“Yes, you just want to pose as an interesting invalid,” Jean laughed.
“Becky sent down a stack of books for you to read. Frank and Billie
call about six times a day to inquire after you, and Madame Ormond has
offered to come and sing for you.”
“Jean, look at me,” said Kit suddenly. “Will you tell me something,
honest and true?”
“I think Mom’s calling.” Jean’s voice was rather hurried, as she
started for the door.
“No, she isn’t any such thing. I want to know if you and Ralph are
engaged. I don’t see why you should try to keep it a secret when
everybody thinks you are anyway. And a wedding in the family would be
so exciting.”
“Well, all right, yes,” she conceded. “Ralph’s giving me a ring before
he leaves. We were going to keep it a surprise until then. We’re not
getting married for a long time yet, so don’t start getting excited
now.” With that she turned and hurried downstairs.
Kit stared out of the window, rather resentfully. She would be
seventeen in November, and Jean was past nineteen. Nineteen loomed
ahead of her as a year of discretion, a time when you naturally came
into your heritage of mature reason and common sense. The Dean, she
remembered, had once remarked that the human brain did not reach its
full development until eighteen, and how at the time she resented it,
feeling absolutely sure at sixteen there was nothing under the sun she
could not understand fully.
But the tumble in the river and peril to her life had left her
completely stranded on the unknown shore of indecision. Evidently it
was just what Billie had called it, a fool stunt for her to try and row
up that river alone. Kit had always gone rather jauntily along doing
as she thought best with an unshakable confidence that nothing could
happen to her.
Another thing, she had a very uncomfortable sensation, for her enemy
had heaped coals of fire on her head and returned good for evil in such
an overwhelming measure that she never could repay him. Twenty-four
hours had made an enormous difference in her outlook on life.
The afternoon of the third day she was allowed to sit down on the
porch. Doris and Jean hovered over her quite as if she was made of
glass, and nearly all the cabin colonists visited her in relays.
Billie came up last of all, but Frank did not appear.
“He’s gone off up in the hills,” Billie told her, “chasing some kind of
a new moth. He said to tell you he would be back to see you later this
afternoon. You’d be awfully dead by now, Kit, if he hadn’t happened to
see you go down, because I was in the cabin and didn’t know anything
about it. But it was just like him to dash after you and pull you out.”
Kit leaned her chin reflectively on her hand. “Heroes are such
uncomfortable people in everyday life, Bill,” she said. “Everybody,
even Dad and Mom, keep telling me how everlastingly grateful I must be
to him for saving my life. I don’t see what I can do except thank him,
and I’ve done that.”
“Treat him decently,” Billie suggested, “even if you don’t like him.
Hide it.”
“Oh, I like him well enough,” Kit answered, “only he’s never seemed
like Buzzy, and Ralph, and you. I guess I’ve always resented everyone
thinking he was so wonderful. It was as though he had had a sort of
sweet revenge on me for taking him for a berry thief.”
True to his word, Frank came down to see Kit just before dinner with
some startling news.
“I’ll be leaving for Europe in another month, Kit. I just received a
letter granting me a fellowship to go over there to examine European
species of insects. If you’ll be real good, Kit, and never call me a
berry thief again, I’ll write to you.”
He was only joking, but there was no answering glint of humor in Kit’s
eyes as she said, “I’ll never, never even think of you as a berry thief
again, Frank. I didn’t know you were planning to go away off over
there, and I’m willing now to say I am sorry for the first day, and
Tommy locking you up, and Mr. Hicks coming to arrest you.”
“I do believe you’re trying to forgive me, Kit,” Frank said teasingly.
“Is this a truce, or a lasting peace? You see, I want to know for
sure, because I haven’t any sisters, or mother, or anyone who cares a
rap whether I go or stay, and you’re the first person I’ve even told.”
“It’s peace,” Kit answered, firmly.
Frank was very busy pulling a small box out of his pocket. In it was a
silver bracelet on which was engraved a tree. “Keep this so you won’t
forget me. It’s an Indian bracelet I brought from New Mexico, and the
tree is alive and growing. It isn’t a sunken snag.”
Kit was obviously very pleased and tried to thank him for it but she
stopped as Ralph and Jean came slowly up the drive together.
Ralph came up the porch steps and sat down beside her. “Jean told me
you guessed our surprise. How do you like your new brother, Kit?”
“I approve,” answered Kit, solemnly. “You know I’ve always liked you,
Ralph. Are you going to let her keep on painting?”
“She can do anything she likes,” Ralph promised. “And if she can find
any more beautiful scenery than we have in Saskatchewan and through
Northwest Canada, she’ll have to show it to me.”
Jean smiled happily but said nothing. She was looking out at the hills
but what she really saw was a ranch in Saskatoon.
Transcriber’s Note:
Punctuation has been standardised.
Falcon Books preliminary page
Ralph MacRae came along _changed to_
Ralph McRae came along
In the Contents
The Suprise _changed to_
The Surprise
Page 72
wasn’t anything in itat _changed to_
wasn’t anything in it at
Page 117
all abou tthat _changed to_
all about that