He kept snatches of song ringing, as well as the wires. His
heart was so full that tears of joy glistened in his eyes. He rigorously
strove to divide his thought evenly between McLean and the Angel.
He realized to the fullest the debt he already owed the Boss and the
magnitude of last night's declaration and promises. He was hourly
planning to deliver his trust and then enter with equal zeal on whatever
task his beloved Boss saw fit to set him next. He wanted to be ready to
meet every device that Wessner and Black Jack could think of to outwit
him. He recognized their double leverage, for if they succeeded in
felling even one tree McLean became liable for his wager.
Freckles' brow wrinkled in his effort to think deeply and strongly, but
from every swaying wild rose the Angel beckoned to him. When he crossed
Sleepy Snake Creek and the goldfinch, waiting as ever, challenged: "SEE
ME?" Freckles saw the dainty swaying grace of the Angel instead. What
is a man to do with an Angel who dismembers herself and scatters over a
whole swamp, thrusting a vivid reminder upon him at every turn?
Freckles counted the days.
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