"We must play square with her, Pied-Bot, and it's a crime worse
than murder not to let her know the truth. If she wasn't a kid,
Peter! But she's that--just a kid--the sweetest, purest thing God
A'mighty ever made, and it isn't fair to live this lie any longer,
no matter how we love her. And we do love her, Peter."
Peter lay very quiet, watching the strange gray look that had
settled in Jolly Roger's face.
"I've got to tell her that I'm a damned highwayman," he added, in
a moment. "And she won't understand, Peter. She can't. But I'm
going to do it. I'm going to tell her--today. And then--I think
we'll be hittin' north pretty soon, Pied-Bot. If it wasn't for Jed
Hawkins--" He rose up out of the sand, his hands clenched.
"We ought to kill Jed Hawkins before we go. It would be safer for
her," he finished.
He went out, forgetting Peter, and climbed a rock-splintered path
until he stood on the knob of a mighty boulder, looking off into
the northern wilderness. Off there, a hundred, five hundred, a
thousand miles--was home. It was ALL his home, from Hudson's Bay
to the Rockies, from the Height of Land to the Arctic plains, and
in it he had lived the thrill of life according to his own
peculiar code. He knew that he had loved life as few had ever
loved it. He had worshipped the sun and the moon and the stars.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85