"
"All right," said Freckles, but it was in a voice that he never had
heard before.
Then the Angel turned and sent a parting glance at Jack. She was
overpoweringly human and bewitchingly lovely.
"You won't forget that ride and the red tie," she half asserted, half
questioned.
Jack succumbed. Freckles was his captive, but he was the Angel's, soul
and body. His face wore the holiest look it ever had known as he softly
re-echoed Freckles' "All right." With her head held well up, the Angel
walked slowly away, and Jack turned to the men.
"Drop your damned staring and saw wood," he shouted. "Don't you know
anything at all about how to treat a lady?" It might have been a
question which of the cronies that crouched over green wood fires in the
cabins of Wildcat Hollow, eternally sucking a corncob pipe and stirring
the endless kettles of stewing coon and opossum, had taught him to do
even as well as he had by the Angel.
The men muttered and threatened among themselves, but they began working
desperately. Someone suggested that a man be sent to follow the Angel
and to watch her and the Bird Woman leave the swamp.
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