“YOU was changin' it,” he answered, savagely. “You was gettin' jes' like them people. It was me what took yer away and spoiled it all. You oughtn't to a come. What made yer, after yer said yer wouldn't?”
She did not answer. Strange things were going through the mind of the slow-witted Jim. He braced himself for a difficult question.
“Will yer answer me somethin' straight?” he asked.
“Why, of course,” she said as she met his gaze.
Her lids fluttered and closed, she caught her breath quickly, her lips apart, then looked far into the distance.
“Yes, Jim, I'm afraid--that's it.” The little figure drooped, and she stood before him with lowered eyes, unarmed. Jim looked at her helplessly, then shook his big, stupid head.
It seemed such a short time to Jim since he had picked her up, a cooing babe, at her dead mother's side. He watched the tender, averted face. Things had turned out so differently from what he had planned.
“And he didn't care about you--like that?” he asked, after a pause.
“No, not in that way.” She was anxious to defend the pastor from even the thought of such a thing. “He was good and kind always, but he didn't care THAT WAY. He's not like that.”
“I guess I'll have a talk with him,” said Jim, and he turned to go.
He stopped and looked at her in astonishment. It was the first time that he had ever heard that sharp note in her voice. Her tiny figure was stiffened with decision. Her eyes were blazing.
“If you ever DARE to speak to him--about me, you'll never see me again.”
“I mean it, Jim. I've made my choice, and I've come back to you. If you ever try to fix up things between him and me, I'll run away--really and truly away--and you'll never, never get me back.”
He shuffled awkwardly to her side and reached apologetically for the little, clenched fist. He held it in his big, rough hand, toying nervously with the tiny fingers.
“I wouldn't do nothin' that you wasn't a-wantin', Poll. I was just a tryin' to help yer, only I--I never seem to know how.”
She turned to him with tear-dimmed eyes, and rested her hands on his great, broad shoulders, and he saw the place where he dwelt in her heart.
THE “Leap of Death” implements were being carried from the ring, and Jim turned away to superintend their loading.