"I am so tired of these present-day young men who
patronizingly call their fathers 'Dad,' 'Governor,' 'Old Man' and 'Old
Chap,' that the boy's attitude of respect and deference appealed to me
as being fine as silk. There must be something rare about that young
man."
She did not find it necessary to tell the Angel that for several years
she had known the man who so proudly proclaimed himself Freckles' father
to be a bachelor and a Scotchman. The Bird Woman had a fine way of
attending strictly to her own business.
Freckles turned to the trail, but he stopped at every wild brier to
study the pink satin of the petals. She was not of his world, and
better than any other he knew it; but she might be his Angel, and he was
dreaming of naught but blind, silent worship. He finished the happiest
day of his life, and that night he returned to the swamp as if drawn by
invisible force. That Wessner would try for his revenge, he knew. That
he would be abetted by Black Jack was almost certain, but fear had
fled the happy heart of Freckles.
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