The Odds | Page 5

Why can't you be a farmer like Jack?"

"I wish I were," he said, unexpectedly.
"Why?" The word slipped out almost in spite of her, but she felt she
must have an answer.
He answered her with his eyes full on her. "Because I'd like to lead the
sort of life you would approve of," he said. "I've a notion it would be
worth while."
She turned aside from his look. "It's only a matter of opinion, of
course," she said.
"Is it?" he said. He turned his attention to the meal before him, and ate
rapidly for a few moments while he considered the matter. At length:
"Yes," he said. "I suppose you're right. Anyhow, you don't feel drawn
that way. You won't feel a bit pleased if Buckskin Bill gets caught by
the police this journey after this?"
Dot shook her head. "I don't think a man ought to be tracked down like
a wild beast," she said, resolutely.
The blue eyes that watched her kindled a little. He finished what was
on his plate and pushed it from him.
"I'm greatly obliged to you," he said, "for your hospitality. I needed
it--badly enough. You'll thank Jack for me, won't you? I must be going
now. But there's just one thing I'd like to say to you first."
He got up and stood before her. It was impossible not to admire his
splendid height and breadth of chest. He could have lifted her easily
with one hand. And yet, strangely, though she felt his power he did not
make her aware of her own weakness.
She looked up at him. "Yes? What is it?"
"Just this, Miss Burton," he said, and somehow he lingered over the
name in a fashion that made it sound musical in her ears. "I'd like to
strike a bargain with you--because you've made a sort of impression on

me. I'm not meaning any impertinence. You know that?"
"Go on!" she whispered, almost inaudibly.
He went on, bending slightly towards her. "The odds are dead against
Buckskin Bill escaping, but--he may escape. If he does, will you--the
next time I come to see you--treat me--without prejudice?"
He also was almost whispering as he uttered the last words.
She drew a sharp breath and looked at him. "You--you--are going to let
him go?" she said, incredulously.
He did not answer. His eyes were drawing hers with a magnetism she
could not resist. And they thrilled her--they thrilled her!
"The odds are dead against him," he said again, after a moment. "Is
it--a bargain?"
Her heart gave a queer little jerk within her. She stood motionless for a
space. Then, with a little quivering smile, she very, very slowly gave
him her hand.
He took it into his great brown one, and though his touch was wholly
gentle she felt the force of the man throbbing behind it, and it seemed
to surge all around and within her.
He stood for a second as if irresolute or uncertain how to treat her.
Then, with a wordless sound that needed no interpretation, he pushed
back the sleeve from the place whence he had sucked the poison. It
showed only a little red now. He bent very low until his lips pressed it
again. Then for one burning moment they neither moved nor breathed.
The next thing that Dot realized was the passing of his great figure
through the doorway out of her sight. She saw him don his slouch hat
as he went.
* * * * *

She cleared the table again and sat down to her work. But somehow all
energy had gone from her. A great lassitude hung upon her. Perhaps it
was caused by the heat, or possibly by the whisky he had made her
drink. There was no resisting it. It pressed her down like a physical
weight. She gave herself up to it at last, and leaning back in her chair
like a tired child she slept.
Robin lay at her feet. The afternoon crawled away. Like the enchanted
princess of old, she reclined in a slumber so deep that life itself seemed
to be suspended.
The sun began to slant towards the west, and the pastures took on a
golden look. The lambs gambolled together with shrill bleatings. But
Dot Burton slept on in her chair, a faint smile on her face of innocence.
Though she could not have been dreaming in so deep a repose, her last
thought ere she slept must have held happiness. Her serenity lay like a
tender veil upon her.
It was drawing towards evening when Robin suddenly raised his head
again with a deep growl. There came the sound of footsteps through the
open door. The girl stirred and slowly awoke.
She stretched up her arms with