The Man Thou Gavest | Page 9

me to get a man of my own and then I'll be human. I've
been--killing the hog to-day!" Marg suddenly and irrelevantly burst out;
"I--I shall never do it again. We'll starve first!"
"Why didn't father?" Nella-Rose said, softly.
"Father? Huh! he couldn't have held the knife. He went for the jug--and
got it full! No, I had to do it, but it's the last time. Nella-Rose, tell me
where Burke is hidden--tell me! Leave me free to--to win him; let me
have my chance!"
"And then who'll kill the pig?" Nella-Rose shuddered.
"Who cares?" Marg flung back.
"No! Find him if you can. Fair play--no favours; what I find is open to
you!" Nella-Rose laughed impishly and, darting past her sister, ran

down the path.
Marg stood and watched her with baffled rage and hate. For a moment
she almost decided to take her chances and seek Burke Lawson in the
distant Hollow. But night was coming--the black, drear night of the low
places. Marg was desperate, but a primitive conservatism held her. Not
for all she hoped to gain would she brave Burke Lawson alone in the
secret places of Devil-may-come Hollow! So she followed after
Nella-Rose and reached home while her sister was preparing the
evening meal.
Peter Greyson, the father, sat huddled in a big chair by the fire. He had
arrived at that stage of returning consciousness when he felt that it was
incumbent upon him to explain himself. He had been a handsome man,
of the dashing cavalry type and he still bore traces of past glory. In his
worst moments he never swore before ladies, and in his best he
remembered what was due them and upheld their honour and position
with fervour.
"Lil' Nella-Rose," he was saying as Marg paused outside the door in the
dark, "why don't you marry Burke Lawson and settle down here with
me?"
"He hasn't asked me, father."
"He isn't in any position now to pick and choose"--this between
hiccoughs and yawns--"I saw him early this morning; I know his back
anywhere. I'd just met old Jim White. I reckon Burke was calculating to
shoot Jim, but my coming upset his plans. Shooting a sheriff ain't safe
business." What Greyson really had seen was Truedale's retreat after
parting company with Jim, but not knowing of Truedale's existence he
jumped to the conclusion which to his fuddled wits seemed probable,
and had so informed Marg upon his return.
"I tell yo', Nella-Rose," he ran on, "yo' better marry Burke and tame
him. There ain't nothing as tames a man like layin' responsibilities on
him."

"Come, father, let me help you to the table. I don't want to talk about
Burke. I don't believe he's back." She steadied the rolling form to the
head of the table.
"I tell yo', chile, I saw Burke's back; don't yo' reckon I know Lawson
when I see him, back or front? Don't yo' want ter marry Lawson,
Nella-Rose?"
"No, I wouldn't have him if he asked me. It would be like marrying a
tree that the freshet was rolling about. I'm not going to seek and hide
with any man."
"Why don't yo' let Marg have 'im then? She'd be a right smart
responsibility."
"She can have him and welcome, if she can find him!" Then, hearing
her sister outside, she called:
"Come in, Marg. Shut out the cold and the dark. What's the use of
acting like a little old hateful?"
Marg slouched in; there was no other word to describe her indifferent
and contemptuous air.
"He's coming around?" she asked, nodding at her father.
"Yes--he's come," Nella-Rose admitted.
"All right, then, I'm going to tell him something!" She walked over to
her father and stood before him, looking him steadily in the eyes.
"I--I killed the hog to-day;" she spoke sharply, slowly, as to a dense
child. Peter Greyson started.
"You--you--did that?"
"Yes. While you were off--getting drunk, and while Nella-Rose was
traipsing back there in the Hollow I killed the hog; but I'll never do it
again. It sickened the soul of me. I'm as good as Nella-Rose--just as

good. If you can't do your part, father, and she won't do hers, that's no
reason for me being benastied with such work as I did to-day. You hear
me?"
"Sure I hear you, Marg, and I'm plumb humiliated that--that I let you.
It--it sha'n't happen again. I'll keep a smart watch next year. A
gentleman can't say more to his daughter than that--can he?"
"Saying is all very well--it's the doing." Marg was adamant. "I'm going
to look out for myself from now on. You and Nella-Rose will find out."
"What's come to you, Marg?" Peter looked concerned.
"Something that hasn't ever come before," Marg replied, keeping her
eyes on Nella-Rose. "There