The Challenge of the NorthHendryx, James B. (James Beardsley)
General
The Challenge of the North
Hendryx, James B. (James Beardsley)
Canada -- Fiction
That night they camped on a little hardwood knoll beside a stream, well
back from the road. Old John seemed to have regained his usual
spirits, and to her utter astonishment the girl surprised a grin upon
his face as he put up the shelter. He built a fire, and producing hook
and line from his pocket, jerked half a dozen trout from the water,
which were soon sizzling in the pan from which rose the odor of frying
bacon.
"Do you know, Dad," began the girl, after the dishes had been washed
and the man had thrown an armful of green bracken upon the fire to
smudge away the mosquitoes. "Do you know I think you are simply
wonderful?" She was leaning against his knee, and her eyes looked into
his.
"Tush, girl, what ails ye?" said the man, removing his pipe to send a
cloud of blue smoke to mingle with the gray of the smudge.
"I mean it, Daddy, dear. You are just wonderful. Oh, I know how
disappointed you are. I know just how it hurts to have a man like
Orcutt get the best of you. I saw it in your face."
"Did Orcutt see it, d'ye think?"
"Of course he did--and he just gloated."
"U-m-m," said McNabb, and his lips twitched at the corners.
"And on top of all that you can smile!"
"Yup, isn't it funny? I can even grin."
"But, Dad, will it--ruin you? Not that I care a bit, about the money.
We can be just as happy, maybe happier, without it. I'm not the little
fool you think I am. I have always spent a lot of money because I had
it to spend, but if we didn't have it, I could be just as happy making
what little I did have go as far as it could. Maybe we'll have to come
up here and live in a cabin. I love the North already, and I've hardly
seen it. We could have a cabin in the woods, and get some furniture
when we could afford it, and then we could arrange it so cozily.
Really, I would be crazy about it. And we could have trout every day,
and wild ducks, and venison. If we could afford a screened porch we
could eat and sleep on it, and in the living room we could have a
table----"
"Good Lord, girl, arrangin' furniture again!" cried old John. "An I'd
come home some night an' break my neck before I could find the
matchbox. If we was to live in a cabin I'd spike the stuff to the
floor! But--maybe it won't be so bad as all that."
"I've been hateful to you of late, Dad, because of--of Oskar. But
really, you made an awful mistake. I should think you would know that
he couldn't have taken that coat. It isn't in him!"
"I never said he ate it," grinned the man.
"Oh, don't joke about it! Dad, I love Oskar. He's--oh, he's
everything a man should be, and it hurts me so to have them saying he
is a thief. He isn't a thief! And the time will come when he will
prove it. Promise me, Dad, that when he does prove it, you will make
every effort in your power to right the wrong you have done him."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account