"
Then Freckles had an inspiration. He turned to Jack imploringly.
"You tell her!" he pleaded. "Tell her to go by the trail. She will for
you."
The implication of this statement was so gratifying to Black Jack that
he seemed again to expand and take on increase before their very eyes.
"You bet!" exclaimed Jack. And to the Angel: "You better take Freckles'
word for it, miss. He knows the old swamp better than any of us, except
me, and if he says 'go by the trail,' you'd best do it."
The Angel hesitated. She wanted to recross the swamp and try to reach
the horse. She knew Freckles would brave any danger to save her crossing
the swamp alone, but she really was not afraid, while the trail added
over a mile to the walk. She knew the path. She intended to run for dear
life the instant she felt herself from their sight, and tucked in the
folds of her blouse was a fine little 32-caliber revolver that her
father had presented her for her share in what he was pleased to call
her military exploit. One last glance at Freckles showed her the agony
in his eyes, and immediately she imagined he had some other reason.
Pages:
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252