Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 97: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Scout for Virginia “But, please mercy, there’s more important things for young men to do than these you’ve mentioned,” she softly rebuked. “Tf the work of surveying lands for homes and settlements, if the scouting of wild country to protect settlements already established, if keep- ing a line of communication open between the Ohio and the James are not important tasks, then tell me what are?” I demanded. She was displeased at my show of heat. “There’s no call for your defending to me your work over the mountains,” she coldly reminded. “As an old friend I was interested in you.” “But tell me what you would consider to have been more important work,” I persisted. “T honestly believed I was working into your good opinion. [I believed that once you knew how seriously I was taking life, you would be glad of me.” “Poor Basdel,” she soothed. “I mustn’t scold you.” “Pitying me is worse,” I corrected. “If you can’t understand a man doing a man’s work at least withhold your sympathy. I am proud of the work I have done.” This ended her softer mood. -“You do right to think well of your work,” she sweetly agreed. “But there are men who also take pride in being leaders of affairs, of holding office and the like.” “And going into trade,” to suggest. With a stare that strongly reminded me of her father she slowly said: “In trade? Why not? Trade is most honorable. The world is built up on trade. Men in trade usually have means. They have I was rash enough comfortable homes. They can give advantages . to those dependent upon them. Trade? Why, the average woman would prefer a trader to the wanderer, who owns only his rifle and what game he shoots.” “Patsy, that is downright savagery,” I warmly accused. “Come, be your old self. We used to be mighty good friends three years ago. Be honest with me. Didn’t you like me back in Williamsburg?” The pink of her cheeks deepened, but she quietly countered: “Why, Basdel, I like you now. If I didn’t I never would bother to speak plainly to you.” Three years picture-painting was turning out to be dream-stuff. I tried to tell myself I was foolish to love one so much like Ericus Dale; but the lure.was there and I could no more resist it than a bear can keep away from a honey-tree. She had shown herself to be contemptuous in reviewing the little I had done. She was blind to the glory of tomorrow and more than filled with absurd crotchets, and yet there was but one woman in America who could make my 87 heart run away from control. If it couldn’t be Patsy Dale it could be no one. “Back in Williamsburg, before I made such 6 mess of my affairs, you knew I loved you.” “We were children—almost.” - “But I’ve felt the same about you these three years. I’ve looked ahead to seeing you. . I’ve—well, Patsy, you can guess how I feel. Do I carry any hope with me when I go back to the forest?” The color faded from her face and her eyes ‘were almost wistful as she met my gaze un- flinchingly, and gently asked: “Basdel, is it fair for a man going back to the forest to carry hope with him? The man goes once and is gone three years. What if he goesa second time and is gone another three years? And then what if he comes back, rifle in hand, and that’s all? What has he to offer her? A home in the wilderness? But what if she Las wake dae in town and isn’t used to that surt e ? “But if she loves the man “But what if she believes she dceei*t love him quite enough to take him and his rifle and live in the woods? Has he any more right to except that sacrifice than she has the right to expect him to leave the forest and rifle and make his home where she always has lived?” “T suppose not. But I, too, like the scenes and things youlike. I don’t intend spending all my life fighting Indians and living in the forest.” “if your absence meant something definite,” she sighed. “Meaning if I were in trade,’ I bitterly said. She ? THE kindly mood was gone. defiantly exclaimed: “And why not? Trade is honorable. It gets one somewhere. It has hardships but it brings rewards. You come to me with your rifle. You talk sentiment. I listen because we were fond of each other in a boy-and-girl way. We mustn’t talk this way any more. Yuu always have my best wishes, but I never would. make a frontier woman. I like the softer side of life too much.” “Then you will not wait? Will not give me any hope?” “Wait for what? Another three years; and you coming back with your long rifle and horse. Is that fair to ask any woman?” “No. Not when the woman questions the fairness. ‘Another three years’ are your words, not mine. I shall see this war through, and then turn selfish. What I have done is good for me. It will serve to build on.” “T’m sure of it,” she agreed. “And you always have my best—my best wishes.” “And down in your heart you dare care some, or you wouldn’t talk it over with me,” I in- sisted. “We liked each other as boy and girl. Perhaps COLIC OOO KS (E@)