Page:Jim of the Hills.djvu/96

  I don't know how I reached the splitter's hut, I only saw the ragin' fire—an' Nell. My clothes were torn, my face an' hands were cut, An' half a dozen times, at least, I fell. I burst into the clearin' … an' I look. … She's sittin' on a log there—with a book!

I seem to cross that clearin' in a stride. Still sobbin' like a kid: "My Nell! My Nell!" I was clean mad. But, as I reach her side, I sort of wake, an' give that song a spell. But, by her eyes, for all she seemed so cool, I know she must have heard, an' feel a fool.

"Why, Mister Jim? You do look hot," says she. (But still her eyes says oceans more than that). "Did you come all the way up here for me?" Coolness? I tell you straight, it knocked me flat. By rights, she should fall sobbin' in my arms; But no; there weren't no shrieks an' no alarms.

I pulls meself together with a jerk. "Oh, just a stroll," I says. "Don't mention it. The mill's half burnt, an' I am out of work; They missed you, so I looked around a bit." "Now, that was good of you," says she, reel bright. "Wasn't the bush-fire just a splendid sight?"