The Beggar Man
"Broke his neck?" echoed Faith, horrified.

"Yes. We had a farm in Australia, twenty-eight miles from a town, and, when he was riding back home one night, the pony caught its foot and threw him." He paused. "I found him lying along the track next morning," he added grimly.

Faith drew a long breath.

"And you were only fifteen! How awful!"

"Yes, it was pretty bad. I know I sat there beside him in the scorching sun and cried for half the day, till someone came along and took me home."

"And--then?" she asked.

"Oh, I've roughed it in thousands of ways since then, and I'm tired of roughing it. That's why I want to get married." His eyes softened as they looked at her. "I think you and I will get on well together," he said.

"Yes," Faith assented. "I think so, too."

"And I'm to fix it up without your mother knowing, is that it?"

"Yes--if you--if you don't mind."

He laughed. "Bless your heart, it's not for me to mind! I'll get a special licence, and we can be married to-morrow."

She caught her breath.

"To-morrow! Oh, it's too soon!"

"Too soon! What is there to wait for?"

"I shall have to tell them at Heeler's, and there's Peg...."

"That friend of yours? Well--tell her afterwards--when you tell your mother."

Faith wavered. She would like to have told Peg, but she answered after a moment: "Oh, very well, but--but not to-morrow!"

"Very well--on Saturday, then--that gives you three days to fix things."

"Thank you."

His eyes wandered over her small person.


 Prev. P 15/130 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact