Page:Son of the wind.djvu/179

RV 165 He came out upon it, at least halfway down the hill. His chest still labored with rapid breathing, but he struggled to make it slower, shaking pine needles out of his hair, gathering himself together for nonchalance. He had measured time to a nicety. On the dirt road above, he heard the dead, muffled sound of steps. A few moments and the figure of Ferrier came into sight. He was walking quickly, his hands driven into his pockets and his head down. As he came on his face became clear in the half light, eyes lowered, lips moving rapidly, as if he rehearsed words.

Carron very leisurely sauntered up toward him. "Good evening again," he said and was sorry to have frightened the fellow. Ferrier halted as if he thought he was seeing an apparition, the man he had but lately left in the house, now walking up toward him.

"I happened to remember something I wanted to ask you," Carron explained. Inward laughter shook him. The words sounded so unhappily impertinently flippant; but the man he addressed showed no inclination either to laugh or to knock him down. His look glided sidewise. He seemed to meditate a bolt through the trees; then, drawing his elbows a little closer to his body, he slipped past Carron and walked on without speaking.