PAGE 11
The Scorn of Women
by
“Good society?”
“Most certainly–the best; and then, heigho! for the dogs and sleds and the Hudson Bay Country. Change, you know. A strong man like you, full of vitality and go, could not possibly stand a palace for a year. It is all very well for effeminate men, but you weren’t made for such a life. You are masculine, intensely masculine.”
“Think so?”
“It does not require thinking. I know. Have you ever noticed that it was easy to make women care for you?”
His dubious innocence was superb.
“It is very easy. And why? Because you are masculine. You strike the deepest chords of a woman’s heart. You are something to cling to,–big-muscled, strong, and brave. In short, because you ARE a man.”
She shot a glance at the clock. It was half after the hour. She had given a margin of thirty minutes to Sitka Charley; and it did not matter, now, when Devereaux arrived. Her work was done. She lifted her head, laughed her genuine mirth, slipped her hand clear, and rising to her feet called the maid.
“Alice, help Mr. Vanderlip on with his parka. His mittens are on the sill by the stove.”
The man could not understand.
“Let me thank you for your kindness, Floyd. Your time was invaluable to me, and it was indeed good of you. The turning to the left, as you leave the cabin, leads the quickest to the water- hole. Good-night. I am going to bed.”
Floyd Vanderlip employed strong words to express his perplexity and disappointment. Alice did not like to hear men swear, so dropped his parka on the floor and tossed his mittens on top of it. Then he made a break for Freda, and she ruined her retreat to the inner room by tripping over the parka. He brought her up standing with a rude grip on the wrist. But she only laughed. She was not afraid of men. Had they not wrought their worst with her, and did she not still endure?
“Don’t be rough,” she said finally. “On second thought,” here she looked at his detaining hand, “I’ve decided not to go to bed yet a while. Do sit down and be comfortable instead of ridiculous. Any questions?”
“Yes, my lady, and reckoning, too.” He still kept his hold. “What do you know about the water-hole? What did you mean by–no, never mind. One question at a time.”
“Oh, nothing much. Sitka Charley had an appointment there with somebody you may know, and not being anxious for a man of your known charm to be present, fell back upon me to kindly help him. That’s all. They’re off now, and a good half hour ago.”
“Where? Down river and without me? And he an Indian!”
“There’s no accounting for taste, you know, especially in a woman.”
“But how do I stand in this deal? I’ve lost four thousand dollars’ worth of dogs and a tidy bit of a woman, and nothing to show for it. Except you,” he added as an afterthought, “and cheap you are at the price.”
Freda shrugged her shoulders.
“You might as well get ready. I’m going out to borrow a couple of teams of dogs, and we’ll start in as many hours.”
“I am very sorry, but I’m going to bed.”
“You’ll pack if you know what’s good for you. Go to bed, or not, when I get my dogs outside, so help me, onto the sled you go. Mebbe you fooled with me, but I’ll just see your bluff and take you in earnest. Hear me?”
He closed on her wrist till it hurt, but on her lips a smile was growing, and she seemed to listen intently to some outside sound. There was a jingle of dog bells, and a man’s voice crying “Haw!” as a sled took the turning and drew up at the cabin.