Look over thar!"
He looked where she pointed across the gray expanse of water. At first
he could see nothing. Presently he saw a mere dot on its face which at
times changed to a single black line.
"It's a log, like these," he said.
"It's no log. It's an Injun dug-out*--comin' for me."
* A canoe made from a hollowed log.
"Your father?" he said joyfully.
She smiled pityingly. "It's Tom Flynn. Father's got suthin' else to look
arter. Tom Flynn hasn't."
"And who's Tom Flynn?" he asked, with an odd sensation.
"The man I'm engaged to," she said gravely, with a slight color.
The rose that blossomed on her cheek faded in his. There was a moment of
silence. Then he said frankly, "I owe you some apology. Forgive my folly
and impertinence a moment ago. How could I have known this?"
"You took no more than you deserved, or that Tom would have objected
to," she said, with a little laugh. "You've been mighty kind and handy."
She held out her hand; their fingers closed together in a frank
pressure.
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