'
Dick's cough became violent at once, and when Chris led Summers into the
vicinity of the dairy a few minutes later the cold had developed
alarmingly. Summers heard, and a quizzical and suspicious eye followed
Christina.
'He--he doesn't appear to be a very strong boy, Mr. Summers,' said the
young woman with obvious artfulness.
'Strong as a bullock,' said Summers.
'He looked very pale, I thought, and that place is damp--damp and
dangerous.'
Summers dangled the keys.
'Let the rascal go,' he said. 'Justice will never be done wi'in range o'
those bright eyes. Let the young villain loose.'
Chris liberated the boy, and filled his pockets with fruit before sending
him away.
'My word, you are a brick,' murmured Dick, quite overcome, and then
Chris, being hidden from the house by the shrubbery, did an astounding
thing; she put her arm about the boy's neck and kissed him, and Dick's
face flamed red, and a delicious confusion possessed him. If he were her
worshipper before he was her slave now--her unquestioning, faithful
slave.
'You know,' she said, 'I must be your friend, because if it had not been
for you my father might have died out there.'
Dick had recalled the incident several times lately, but always, it must
be regretfully admitted, with a pang of angry compunction. There were
occasions when he felt that it would have been wise to have left the
superintendent to his fate.
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